Shadows of the Mind
by Denisea
Summary: Six months after "Justice of Clan Tahl," Brenna is trying to run her fledgling Center but "hears voices" that are giving her a headache. As Luke investigates, he is suddenly interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Aren, in a panic over the murder of his father and the imprisonment of his mother by the Bonders.
1. Chapter 1

**Shadows of the Mind**

**Prologue**

Brenna rubbed her eyes tiredly. The baby was doing well. Her training was going well—or at least, it had been until lately—and she was doing exactly what she wanted to do, running the Center.

She should be glad to be back to work in her office. _Should_ be, but she was tired. Felt heavy. Nothing specific, just a feeling of _blaah_ that wouldn't go away unless she was home with Rupert and the baby.

Then there were the voices. That's what worried her the most, the voices. They didn't _say_ anything, they were just _there_. She had already seen Dr. Tibbik, but he couldn't find anything wrong with her. She supposed she should tell Rupert and her father, but there wasn't much to tell, beyond being tired and hearing voices that didn't say anything.

And she really didn't want to tell them she was hearing voices.

She sighed. Then signed out of the office and logged off her computer. She'd just work from home for a few more days, then try again…

**Shadows of the Mind**

**Chapter One**

The door buzzed, and Rupert transferred the baby from one shoulder to the other to answer it. "Hi," he said to his father-in-law. "Come on in."

"Hey. Where's Bren?" Luke asked, hardly waiting for the invitation to enter, familiar enough to know that he was welcome even without it being spoken. He tickled the baby under the chin by way of greeting.

Rupert nodded towards the door to the sleeping area, and Luke heard the water just shutting off. "Don't tell me she's still in the shower? She was in there when I called."

"She likes 'em long, and she likes 'em hot," Rupert replied.

Luke did a double-take as Rupert went back to the couch, laid Han on the cushion, and proceeded to change the baby's diaper. Surely Rupert couldn't have intended that double entendre…

"Don't forget, people have to sit there," Luke reminded him.

Rupert looked up and grinned. "You mean, _you_ do. Don't worry. We haven't had any leaks since that one time. Have we, Han-nee?" He blew raspberries on the baby's bare stomach, and the infant gurgled in delight.

"'Han-nee'?" Luke repeated, wondering what the galaxy was coming to.

"Combination of 'Honey' and 'Han,'" Rupert informed him. "Brenna's latest nickname for him.

Luke searched for something eloquent to say. "Ah..." was all he managed. He was once again amazed at how quickly the baby was developing. He could already roll over and lift his head, although his movements were still somewhat wobbly.

"Look, I gotta get going," Rupert said. "The spinner birds are due to be released soon, and I want to make sure they know where to find food. I'll be back as soon as I'm sure they'll be okay. Brenna fed Han before she took her shower, so he should be fine for a while."

"Okay," Luke said. He knew that Rupert's pet project was to reintroduce animal life to the barren planet. The trees seemed to have survived the transplant, and birds were next on his list. Of course, the food for them would have to be provided, until the various other species of the food chain had been introduced and established. "Grampa Luke will do his best to keep him out of trouble."

As Rupert left through the front door, the door to the sleeping area opened, and Brenna breezed into the room. Her body was wrapped in a large towel, and her hair was wrapped in a smaller one. "Hi, Dad," she said, and leaned briefly to plant a kiss on his cheek. Then she went to the couch, picked up a brightly colored ball, and began making cooing noises as she waved it around the baby's head.

"You're late," Luke accused, but with a smile.

"Am not. You're early," Brenna returned.

"Have you been practicing?"

Brenna let go of the ball and turned away from the baby toward her father. The ball remained suspended over the baby. "How's that for practice?"

Luke shrugged. "It's a good start," he admitted. "But I had in mind something a little heavier. Like the weight I gave you."

She shook her head. "Sorry." She put her hand behind her back and the ball dropped into it without her looking at it. "I can't even hold this up for very long. I've tried working with the weight, but..."

"But?"

Brenna picked up the baby and held him next to her between her and her father like a barrier. "But it's just not coming."

Luke sighed. "Give me the baby, go get dressed, and get to work." He took Han, lifted him to his shoulder and wagged a finger at Brenna. "Keep practicing."

"Yes, Dad," she said obediently.

The baby gurgled, and changed Luke's stern expression into a smile. In spite of Brenna's lack of progress with her training, he was looking forward to a day playing with his grandson.

It was shaping up to be a pretty good morning.

He had been enjoying a lot of them lately.

He didn't know it, but it would be the last pretty good morning that he would have for a while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Shadows of the Mind**

Chapter Two

The protocol 'droid had been a gift from Brenna's mother-in-law. Leia said it made a pretty good secretary, and it was experienced working with Brenna's own Artoo unit.

Rupert's theory, however, was that his father had persuaded his mother to get rid of the damn thing because it was so annoying. The truth was that it _was_ a little annoying, but its translation abilities had already been indispensable on several occasions, and since she was short-handed, its other functions were useful, too.

"Threepio," said Brenna tiredly, rubbing her forehead," see if you can get hold of Dr. Tibbik for me, will you? Tell him I need another appointment."

"Yes, Miss Brenna." The 'droid turned its head. "Oh, Master Luke! Miss Brenna, your father is—"

"—here," Luke finished, striding into the room.

Brenna wondered briefly why the 'droid referred to her father as "Master Luke" even though Leia had assured Brenna that it now belonged to _her_.

"Rupert finished early," Luke said, "so I thought I'd come and take you to lunch, maybe work with you with that weight a little bit. Why do you need to see Dr. Tibbik?" He perched on the corner of her desk and waited for the answer.

Brenna shrugged. "Nothing, really. Just juggling work and motherhood and extra-curricular activities," she said, referring to her lessons with Luke.

Luke frowned.

Brenna rubbed her forehead. "I've also got these headaches."

"This is the first I've heard about 'headaches.'"

"Nothing serious," she told him. "Tibbik has done a full diagnostic and hasn't found anything."

"'Full diagnostic'? Brenna, when were you planning on telling me about this?"

"As soon as I figure out what's wrong, if anything. Tibbik thinks it's just stress. He says it would account for the voices, too."

"'Voices'?" Luke slid of thee edge of the desk and peered at her. "What voices?"

"Just…voices. I hear them sometimes when I'm sitting here."

Luke grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the door. "Come on," he said. He grabbed her communicator and told Threepio to patch Tibbik through as soon as he was reached, and to cancel any appointments Brenna had left for the day.

"Where are we going?" Brenna wanted to know.

"Med Center. Dr. Tibbik's office. When the boss says she has a medical problem, you don't make her wait for an appointment." He hailed a transport, ushered Brenna inside, and slid in next to her.

"Tibbik here," said the communicator.

"Tibbik, it's Luke Skywalker. I'm bringing Brenna to see you. Right now." He tapped the connection closed and turned to his daughter. "Now tell me about these 'headaches' and 'voices.' When did they start?"

Brenna laughed. "Really, Dad, it's not all that bad. The headaches are a nuisance, that's all. And the rest is probably my imagination."

"When did this start?" Luke repeated.

She sighed. "I don't know, exactly. The headaches just sort of…crept up on me. I first started noticing them a couple of weeks ago, I guess. I contacted Tibbik had my office screened for environmental toxins and common allergens, but it came back negative. He's run tests on me, too, and they've all come back negative."

"What about the voices? When did they start?"

"Again, they sort of crept up on me. But last week, when I was trying to work on something and kept getting distracted by what I was hearing, then went out to the hallway to tell whoever to be quiet, and there wasn't anyone there—anyway, that's when I contacted Tibbik. He's run every test in the book on me, and then some. He says I'm perfectly healthy, perfectly normal, probably just stressed. So I cut back on my workload, sit at my desk doing mainly jigsaw and logic puzzles, taking a break from the baby, and I heard the voices again today. That's why I called Tibbik again."

"Do these 'voices' say anything?"

"No, not really. Not that I can understand, anyway. It's just…murmuring. Nothing specific."

"Hmmm." Luke said.

They got to the Med Center and went straight to Tibbik's office. They were immediately ushered into an exam room by a tech 'droid, and a few seconds later, Tibbik came in, nodded to Luke, and sat down across from Brenna.

"Well," he said to Brenna, "your last bacterial and viral scans came back normal. I can do another brain scan, but if it comes back like the last one, I don't think it will show us anything. Did the muscle relaxants help the headaches?"

"No."

"Still feeling tired?"

Luke looked at her. She hadn't mentioned that symptom to him.

Brenna sighed. "I felt fine when I woke up this morning. But by the time my father came to see me, I was."

Timmon sighed. "Brenna, I'll run through every test again, but I can't think of any new one to add. So far, I can't find anything physically wrong with you."

Luke voiced the question he sensed was uppermost in Brenna's mind. "Dr. Tibbik, any chance she could be having a psychotic breakdown?"

"It's possible," Timmon admitted, "but the scans are showing everything to be normal."

Luke inhaled. "If she's fine at home but showing symptoms at work—starting _after_ she moved into her new offices—then it would make sense that there's something _there_ making her sick."

"But we had them scanned," Brenna protested.

"I'll send the scan team again," Timmon promised. "I'll have them check for every possible contaminant. Again."

"Good," Luke said. "And in the meantime, Bren, I think it would be a good idea for you to stay at home, take care of the baby."

"And if the cause of the illness isn't physical one," Tibbik said, looking meaningfully at Luke, "then it must be…a metaphysical one?"

"Force-generated," Luke nodded. "I think I'll spend some time in your office, Bren, see if anything, uh, comes to me."


	3. Chapter 3

**Shadows of the Mind**

Chapter Three

Luke sat in Brenna's chair while the sweepers came to check her office for contaminants. He sat there, and waited. Eventually, he started to fall asleep, then roused himself with a start. She had described one of her symptoms as being "tired."

Yes, he was definitely tired. He shouldn't be. It wasn't even his usual bedtime yet. Interesting.

He piped some music through to help him stay awake, and waited some more.

About an hour past when he usually lay down to rest, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. He was getting nowhere. He'd been there longer than Brenna usually was in a workday, and…

And he stopped himself. Rubbing his eyes? Because of the _headache_ that was just starting to form behind his eyes.

There _was_ something here.

He stayed where he was.

Over the hours, the tiredness and headache grew, not to intolerable levels, but stronger with each passing hour.

The morning light was just coming into the main window when he heard a faint whisper. Just barely there.

He was just about to call Brenna and update her on what he'd found, let her know he was going to stay and see if the voice would tell him anything. But before he could reach his com-link, it buzzed to indicate Brenna was calling _him_.

He answered it.

"Dad! You need to get down to the docking port now!"

"Brenna? What's going on?"

"I'm sending a transport for you! It'll be there in less than a minute! It's Aren! He's in the shuttle. I had traffic control send it the commands the landing cycle. He says he needs to see you as soon as possible. He says his mother-_our_ mother-is in trouble. I'm on my way to the docking part now."

"Aren?" Luke repeated in disbelief. He jumped out of the chair and headed quickly for the door. The voices would have to wait.

.

.

.

When Luke arrived at the docking port, Brenna was already there, and Rupert was just arriving with baby Han. Traffic control had sent the landing codes to the autopilot to guide the shuttle to the assigned strip.

Almost as soon as it touched down, Aren started pounding on the shuttle door hysterically. He couldn't figure out how to open it manually. Brenna punched in the codes at the access hatch. The door opened, and Aren stumbled down the ramp.

Rupert, meanwhile, headed with the baby not towards the shuttle, but towards the _Falcon_. Rupert knew as well as Luke and Brenna that the arrival of Aren on the shuttle could only mean serious trouble with Elaan and/or Timmon, and there was no faster ship for a rescue than the _Falcon._

Luke caught the boy before he could fall and steadied him. "What happened?" he asked.

"Bonders!" Aren sobbed. The three-day trip by shuttle had not tempered his desperation. "They killed my Da! They took my Ma!"

Luke patted him on the back. He knew the boy would have doubts about whether he should have stayed to try to help his family rather than take the shuttle to find Luke. "You did the right thing by coming here. Do you know where they took her?"

"The bonders fair!"

"Same one we were at before?"

Aren nodded. "My ma—they hurt her!"

"We're going to get her back, Aren," That was Brenna. Luke glanced at her, then motioned to her to speak privately.

Luke spoke quickly, not wanting to waste an instant of time. "I think I want Rupert on this one. You stay here with the baby and Aren—take care of them. Stay away from your office. There's something in there, all right. The voices are not in your imagination. Research everything you can about your office, and everything near it, but stay away from it. And I need you do me a favor while Rupert's doing the pre-flight. Go back to my quarters and get my bon—" He stopped talking when Brenna opened her hand to show him his bonder's ring.

"Good thing your quarters are close to the house. I thought there was a chance you might want it."

In other circumstances, Luke might have smiled at her foresight. Now he just nodded, took the ring, and headed for the _Falcon_. Brenna and Aren followed. When they reached the freightor, Brenna stayed at the bottom of the ramp, but Aren started to follow Luke inside. Luke motioned for him to stay with Brenna, "I think we'll keep it small, this time. We don't have time to plan for a big operation. Just go in, get Elaan, get out. A two-man operation. A third person will just get in the way."

"But ma—"

"You did your part, Aren. Now let me do mine. You'll help your mother more by staying here. Just…trust me. Please."

Luke went inside to get the baby, brought him out and gave him to Brenna. As he transferred Han to her arms, he reiterated for her to stay away from her office and to take care of her brother and her son. Then he kissed her on the cheek, motioned for the two of them to back away from the ship, and pulled up the ramp and closed the hatch.

Brenna pulled her half-brother back with her to clear the ship, and a few seconds later, the _Falcon_ lifted, turned, and was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Shadows of the Mind**

Chapter Four

Aren didn't require much taking care of. He either sat on the sofa, lay on the sofa, or paced in front of the sofa like a maniac. Brenna made sure that food and water were available for him, but other than that, there was really nothing more she could do for him.

Han, of course, required more constant care, but he still slept a lot, and while he was sleeping, she learned everything she could about her office from her computer-which wasn't much. The building itself had served as the main administration building for the original Brenna Brellis, although the exact location of her office was unknown. The building was structurally sound, the location was central to the complex, there were enough offices and conferences rooms to satisfy every need, an internal communications network was already in place – in short, the building could be easily repurposed at minimal cost. Brenna had simply ordered a face-lift – new paint, some new furniture – and pressed it into service as the administration building for the Rescue Center. After all, she was not superstitious – or at least, she hadn't _thought_ she was – but if her Dad was saying there was something about the building or her office, then maybe she'd have to reconsider that decision.

It wasn't until Brenna closely reviewed the survey report on the building that she discovered the slight discrepancy. The surveyors themselves had discovered it, added it as a minor footnote to their footnote to their report, attributed the slight discrepancy to a prior re-model.

There were about two feet of unaccounted for space between the wall of Brenna's office, and the office next door.

Brenna contacted Devon, then sent a scan team and a construction team—which in this case would be a _de_-construction team—to her office, to open the space and find out what was there. Then she woke Aren and asked him to babysit Han for her.

Her father had told her to stay out of her office, but he hadn't said anything about the staff lounge. Whatever the thing in her wall was about, she had the feeling it was important, and she paced the length of the lounge in nervous=excited energy.

The intercom buzzed—she'd told Devon where she'd be—and she went to the wall panel. "Yes?"

She could hear voices in the background, talking even before Devon's voice came on. Yes, something had definitely happened.

"Brenna, you need to get up here," he said.

"What'd you find?" she asked.

"You need to see it for yourself."

"One minute."

She raced to the elevator and hit the button for the top floor. There were workers spilling into the hallway, the helmets of their haz-mat suits removed—no danger of toxins, then. Devon shoo'd them out, and motioned Brenna in.

"What is it?" Brenna asked.

"A body. Frozen in carbonite. It was hidden in the walls of your office. Probably been there since the first Brenna Brellis, or earlier."

"Viable?"

Devon shrugged. "_Some_thing's working on it. There's a light blinking, but I don't know what it's for."

"Call a med team, stat." Brenna said.

"Done and done."

"Any idea who it might be?"

"No, but—"

A couple of the workers still in Brenna's office, working on the section of wall that had been ripped apart. They parted to let her see what they had found.

"Sweet Deities," Brenna murmured.

"My thoughts exactly," Devon echoed.

"It's a _child!_" she exclaimed.

.

.

.

Brenna tore her eyes from the carbonite image of the little girl, and looked at Devon. "We need to keep this under wraps," she said.

"Agreed."

"Get everyone who's seen her to the theatre-toreum. I'll need a trustworthy AV tech, too. Order the med staff to secrecy before you let them in. I'll address them later."

"Right."

"Absolutely _no_ media on this. Hopefully we can find out what's going on before this gets out." She looked at him with an expression that reminded him of the last time she had ordered him to keep media out of the loop, and he had disobeyed.

"This time, I agree with you," Devon said.

Brenna let out a breath and looked at the workers, who had stopped clearing a space around the frozen child. Some of them were staring at the girl, some looking to Brenna for instructions.

"Is she clear?" Brenna asked.

One of them spoke up. "Yes, ma'am.. Ready for the med team. Want us to put your office back together when they're gone?"

"No rush on that. But I would like to see everyone involved in the theatre-torium in—" she looked at Devon, who flashed both his hands, and then one hand "—fifteen minutes."

The one who had spoken must have been the foreman, because the others turned to him with questioning eyes. He made a sweeping glance over them, then motioned to the door, and the work crew left the office to head toward the theatre-toreum.

"Keep me posted," Brenna told Martuk. "Channel two."

"You know, the communications system here could use some improvement. _Two_ is the only secure line we have."

"I'm working on it," Brenna told him. "The Request for Proposal is already posted. Trevis has promised to review whatever comes in—"

"You mean, try to hack it," Devon interrupted.

Brenna gave him a small smile. "'Review' sounds better. Anyway, I don't want to spend money until we know what we're getting."

"Your call," Devon said. "Good thing we haven't had to deal with any real emergencies yet."

"We're not ready yet," Brenna told him matter-of-factly.

"I know. But some people—including me—are getting restless."

"Be careful what you wish for," Brenna warned.

The intercom beeped, and Devon answered it in a low voice, then turned it off and looked at Brenna. "Med team's here."

"No chatter on this," Brenna reminded him. "And…stay with her, will you?" She motioned to the carbonite casing.

"She's frozen, if she's even alive," Devon reminded her.

"I know, but…stay with her."

.

.

.

Brenna drew a breath and stepped onto the stage in the theatre-toreum. The AV tech had unlocked the room and turned on the lights, and turned off the recording devices.

As soon as she reached the podium, the talking ceased.\

There were only a dozen or so in the audience, and Brenna would have preferred a more intimate setting, but the size of the group was too big for the smaller meeting rooms, and this was the most logical place.

"Thank you for waiting," Brenna said. The mic picked her voice up and amplified it enough for the workers to hear her, but not enough to boom through the nearly empty audience. "You probably already know what was found in my office. I won't go into the details of why we went looking, but…certain sounds and a discrepancy in the building plans led me to believe that _some_thing was there. The some_thing_ was actually some_one_, and most of you already know that the someone, was a child. Apparently a little girl, frozen in carbonite. The med team is looking at her now, and it looks as if she may be still alive, after being frozen for some unknown number of years. The thing is—" she paused and looked from one member of the work crews to the next. "The thing is, this _is_ still a child, no matter how long she's been in hibernation. Right now we don't know anything about her. She may still have family—we don't know. If the med team can revive her, we may know more. But for now, I'm asking each and every one of you to keep this to yourselves. If word leaks out, and especially if she's still alive, the publicity could adversely affect her. If she's _not_ viable, then none of this matters and you can talk about it to your heart's content. But I believe she _is_ alive. And until her doctors agree that she can handle the media sensation that her discovery would be likely to cause, I am personally asking you to protect her privacy and give her the chance to recover from…whatever caused her to be frozen like that."

"What if word leaks out?" one of the workers called out.

"In that case," Brenna said, "an investigation would be launched, and whoever was responsible would no longer be welcome here. Most of you came here to either find a home, or help others in need, which is what this Center is about. Who could have known that the first person to need our help would have been found right here at the Center? "

.

.

.

Brenna brought Aren and baby Han with her to the Med Center, and appropriated a small waiting room for her own use. Aren was turning out to be a pretty good babysitter, despite his grief over his father and anxiety over his mother. Holding, feeding, and changing Han gave Aren something to take his mind off, albeit temporarily, what had and was happening on his homeworld. Little Han, for his part, seemed to take to Aren without hesitation, without any of the stranger anxiety that babies were often prone to.

The girl in carbonite was still alive, that much was certain. It was also certain that she was the source of the headaches and the voices Brenna had experienced—which meant that the girl was a Force-sensitive who could somehow communicate at some level even in her hibernated state.

The girl had been brought to the Med-Center, and while the team scrambled to interpret the various readings on the slab and figure out whether it was in the girl's best interest to revive her or ship her off to a better equipped facility, Brenna made herself and her two charges as comfortable as she could in the appropriated waiting room.

The call came from the Med-Team that they thought they had finally figured out the readings, and they thought they could revive her, but wanted Brenna's orders to either do so, or ship her off.

"I don't want her left frozen for one minute longer than she has to be," was Brenna's reply, and left baby Han with Aren to run up to the treatment room to witness first-hand what was going on.

When she got there, the thawing process had already begun. The carbonite was glowing and melting, the room temperature was growing chilly as a result, and a tech was reading off numbers that the doctors seemed satisfied with. Devon Martuk was there, too, hovering in the background just like Brenna. As one of the doctors declared that she was regaining consciousness, another team member looking at brain activity suddenly yelled "Whoa!" and then turned to the others and said, "There's a lot of emotional distress! You might want to slow this down!"

"Can't," one of the doctors replied. "Once the process has started, it has to run its course."

"There's some sort of implant device connected to her brain," another said.

Brenna peered over the shoulder of one of the staff to see a module of some sort attached to the girl's scalp. It had been covered by the carboninte and was thin enough not to be noticed until the carbonite had melted over it. Indicator lights on it were blinking.

"Get Tibbik," Brenna ordered.

A tech went to the communications station to contact Tibbik, and then, suddenly, all Hell broke loose.

The girl on the table made a guttural cry, like an enraged beast, and her hands slapped at her hibernation-blinded eyes. Fearing that she might hurt herself, med staff on either side of the table grabbed at her arms to hold them down, and the girl curled her legs up toward her head, then kicked out on either side, causing the staff holding her to release her and stumble back, crashing into equipment and tools, which were sent clattering to the floor. Other staff tried to grab the girl, and the child managed to successfully fight them off, slapping at her eyes between blows. Somebody shrieked as she broke his arm, and somebody else prepared a hypo spray.

The girl rolled and fell off the table onto the floor, and in the confined space of the treatment room, managed to create chaos as she fought off med staff who were trying to help her and banged into machinery that she couldn't see.

The girl was blinded, but she seemed to know instinctively when someone was getting close to her, and lashed out, usually striking her target. She didn't seem to sense the equipment, however, and received much bruising in return.

Most of the staff were trying to get to the girl from the floor. Brenna held out her hand to the tech with the hypo spray and climbed onto the table as quietly as she could, concentrating on shielding her presence from the child. When the girl was occupied by an approaching team member from her front, Brenna prayed that the distraction was enough, and jabbed the spray against the girl's arm.

There was hardly any effect.

Brenna scrambled backwards off the table, narrowly avoiding a swing, and glared at the tech who had prepared the spray. "That should have knocked her out," the tech protested.

"Give me the upper limit of what a child her size can safely tolerate," Brenna told him, and took the spray from him again when it was ready.

Meanwhile, the med team had finally backed off, and the girl, sensing this, got to her feet and slapped at her eyes again. For the instant, there was stillness amidst the chaos.

As quietly as she could, Brenna climbed quietly back onto the table. She motioned for some of the staff to move closer, and then looked to the other side pointed to a tray that had fallen in the confusion. Martuk, seeing what Brenna was up to, quietly picked it up, and just missed being kicked by the girl who had heard the sound anyway. Brenna motioned throwing the tray against the wall away from the table and mouthed "throw it." Martuk threw it against the wall, and the girl spun around at the sound. Brenna used the distraction to press the hypo spray against the girl's neck. The girl stood upright for a second, and Brenna backed off the table quickly, landing on the floor just as the girl swung an arm at her.

The momentum of the swing and the effects of the drug were too much for the child, and she spun around and collapsed. Devon rushed in and caught her before her head could land on the floor.

"Get a gurney," Devon ordered. "Find out what that thing attached to her is, and take it out if you can."

.

.

.

Aren's trip to Croyus Four had taken three days. Luke and Rupert's trip back to Elaan's world – the planet didn't even have a name – took just under two in the _Falcon_. In the meantime, Luke tried to rest, in part to recover from the drain that Brenna's office had put on him, and in part because he suspected he would need all his strength later.

They landed in the same place Rupert had picked out on their previous visit to the bonder's fair. It was night when they landed, and they used Rupert's ability to bond with night-vision animals to make their way down the slope. Luke was less reluctant about avoiding discovery of their advanced technology on this trip. He could have decided to blast their way into the prison, but just as it had been when they had rescued Timmon, there were too many unknown variables with that plan. It was more logical to scout the situation, and take it from there. Luke kept his lightsaber behind his back under his cloak, and Rupert had his blaster the same way. That gave them two weapons: one for infighting, and one for distance. He also packed a pouch with a portable lamp, and medical supplies.

Dawn had risen by the time they reached the fair, and fair-goers were starting to mill. Luke and Rupert put to good use the pick-pocketing skills they had used the last time they were here, and by the time they reached the prison, they had enough coin for Luke to bribe his way to the cellar prison.

The guard left Luke alone outside the cell, not even bothering to simply withdraw back up the stairs, but returned to his post. Evidently, he didn't think there was any danger either of escape or concern for Luke's safety with the prisoner, both of which ideas were worrisome.

Luke could barely make out the huddled figure in the back of the cell. "Elaan?" he called softly.

There was no answer, nor shadow of movement.

Luke thumbed the adjustment on his lightsaber and switched it on. A pencil-thin blade emerged, and Luke sliced through the lock cleanly. He entered the cell and was kneeling by her side in three strides.

She cringed at his touch, and he pulled back.

"Elaan, it's me. Luke." He reached for her again.

She cringed again, this time with a tiny whimper.

The odd angle of the leg sticking out fro her body caught Luke's attention, and he pulled out the small portable lamp to look at it. "Sweet Deities," he muttered. The foot was mangled, and the leg broken – possibly in more than one place. "What did they do to you?"

The smell that mixed with the other smells Luke remembered from when he first saw Timmon here was a clear sign that there was a serious infection.

Luke tried to run his hands over her body to check the extent of her injuries, but she cringed again.

He'd never be able to move her like this.

He reached into his pouch again, found the hypo spray, and pressed it against her neck. Then he adjusted the spray, this time for antibiotics, and pressed it to her neck again.

While he waited for the knock-out drug to take effect, he contacted Rupert through the Force.

_She's in bad shape. Were taking her out now."_

_In?_ Rupert asked, wanting to know if he should fight his way in.

_No. Distraction. And a ride-beast. One with a wagon._

_Give me a minute._

Elaan's breathing became more regular. Luke waited a little longer to make sure she was fully unconscious, then did a quick inventory of the most obvious injuries. With each new discovery, his expression became more grim.

_Ready_, Rupert told him.

As carefully as he could, Luke picked Elaan up and readied his lightsaber in case he needed it. It would be awkward to use while holding Elaan, but with the ancient-style weapons here, finesse wasn't as critical. _Now_, Luke told Rupert.

Amazingly, he didn't encounter a single guard on his way out, not even at the table where he had used his bonder's ring and paid the fee to see the prisoner. Even the clerk was missing. Even the prisoners he had passed on the upper level – those who might be sober enough to notice him carrying Elaan—were looking out their barred windows to a commotion outside.

Once Luke was outside, it was obvious why his exit hadn't been challenged.

It was chaos.

Ride-beasts, mortus, skerrits, rodents, birds—every animal in the fair had seemingly gone mad, and people were running and screaming this way and that, trying to get away from the crazed beasts that were attacking them..

_Nice_, Luke thought into the link. _But what about—_

His question was cut short by the arrival of a pair of ride-beasts pulling a wagon, which stopped just ahead of Luke's location on the road.

Rupert rose to one knee in the back of the hay-filled wagon and took Elaan from Luke. "You were saying?" he asked aloud, grinning. Then he saw Elaan's bare foot dangling at an improbable angle and muttered, "Merciful heavens!"

Rupert lay Elaan down on top of the new hay in the cart. Luke climbed up behind him and stretched his body across Elaan's as much as he could, to try to shield her somewhat from the jouncing he knew was coming. Rupert moved to the front of the cart and crouched low, adding his forward-facing vision to the side-vision of the ride-beasts. With a Force-nudge from Rupert, the animals took off through the fair, looking to all the world like the rest of the animals that had suddenly gone berserk.

.

.

.

They rode the hay wagon to the path they had made from the _Falcon's_ landing site. Rupert quickly cut through the animals' harnesses at odd angles to make them look as if they had broken off, which given the state of the leather wasn't impossible, and lined the animals up so that the most sure-footed one was in front of the other. Then they turned the _Falcon's_ medical stretcher into a make-shift litter carried between the animals. As carefully as they could, they transferred Elaan to the litter and with Luke and Rupert at opposite ends of the litter to help control it, they made their way up the mountain to the clearing where the _Falcon_ was. They detached the stretcher from the ride-beasts, and Rupert sent the animals on their way. With any luck, they'd find better homes than the one they'd come from. They carried Elaan inside the _Falcon_, put her in the same medical bay Luke had used after his first lightsaber duel with Darth Vader, and Rupert lifted off.

This time there was none of the care they had taken to avoid being seen the first time they had lifted off from this site. Luke wanted speed, not concealment. The situation was too urgent to worry about cultural contamination. They lifted off as soon as the _Falcon_ was able, with Rupert at the helm and Luke tending Elaan.

As Rupert piloted the ship, Luke treated Elaan as best he could medically, secured a chair next to Elaan's bedside, and settled in to do what his limited Force-healing skills could accomplish on the trip back. Some of her wounds had turned septic, especially her foot, and the best he could hope for was to keep her stabilized until they returned to Croyus Four, and she could be treated at a proper medical facility.

.

.

.

Brenna and Devon Martuk sat down in Tibbik's office without ceremony. Tibbik's only greeting back to them was a nod.

"We're keeping her isolated for now," Tibbik told them. "Surgeons have removed the implants, and she's not in any _physical_ danger, but we had to induce a medical coma. It's either that or restraints. We don't know what to do for her. Rather, _I_ don't know what to do for her. If anyone comes near her, she becomes combative."

"What were the implants," Devon asked.

"They were attached to her visual and auditory nerves," Tibbik said. "They were sending image and sound stimuli to her brain. How long they were there before she was frozen, I can't say. How much of an effect they had _while_ she was frozen, I also can't say. What I _can_ do is show you a little of what she seeing and hearing when we woke her up." He reached to his computer controls, and the screen behind his desk dissolved into images of warfare, a series of vids, fleeting images of killings, of torture, of dead bodies, of murder and mayhem. The accompanying sound, turned low in volume, was mainly of screaming, shrieking, or sounds of blasters, explosions, audio accompaniment to the horror of the visual images.

Tibbik didn't let it run for longer than a second before shutting it off.

"Sweet Force," Brenna murmured. "Who would _do_ that to a child?"

"I'm guessing Brenna Brellis," Martuk replied. "The first one, of course."

"_Why_?" Brenna wanted to know.

"Some sort of experiment, perhaps?" Tibbik suggested. "For whatever reason, it was done to her on purpose. Removing the implants has stopped the flood of images and sounds, but I cannot guess as to the effect they had on her, or why she was targeted for such treatment."

"She's a Force-sensitive," Brenna answered. "And she's young. Maybe…those two factors singled her out."

"If we can identify her," Tibbik said, "we might be closer to figuring out how to help her."

"This induced coma—" Brenna said, "—is that the best solution for her?"

"It's certainly not doing her any good," Tibbik said, "but I have reservations about waking her, especially given her reaction when we brought her out of hibernation."

Devon shrugged. "Her reaction may have been because of the implants. Add hibernation sickness to that, and—"

"We can bring her out of the coma at any time," Tibbik said. "But I would advise restraints, lest she hurt herself or any of the medical staff. I'm not sure that I'm equipped to handle whatever trauma she has experienced, but—"

"But you're one of the best," Brenna said, smiling at him.

"True," Tibbik admitted, without false modesty. "I was about to say that I could think of no one else who would be able to handle something of this nature, either. I will contact some colleagues to see if they have any advice to offer, nonetheless. As for her Force-sensitivity, I am entirely _un_equipped to deal with that aspect of her care."

"My Dad," Brenna nodded. "He'd be the best one to talk to about that."

"My thoughts, exactly," Tibbik smiled. "Which is why I believe it is in the girl's best interests to keep her here, rather than send her offworld to a psychiatric facility."

"Do you recommend waking her?" Devon asked.

"I do," Tibbik replied. "I am worried about the physical effects of remaining in a coma for an extended period—especially given the age of the patient. But we don't know how she'll be when she wakes up, and I would prefer…to have an expert consultant on Force-sensitivity on-hand when we do wake her."

"My Dad should be back in a couple of days," Brenna said. "Can we keep her in a coma until then?"

"That," said Tibbik, "is my recommendation."

Devon cleared his throat. "One question," he said. "We don't know her identity yet. What should we call her?"

"Jane Doe?" suggested Tibbik.

Brenna shook her head. "If someone accidentally comes across a reference to a 'Jane Doe' in the Med Center, it's bound to attract attention that we probably don't want."

"What about 'Dark Child'?" Devon suggested.

Brenna shook her head again. "Descriptive, but too prophetic. I don't think my Dad would approve. And still too attention-grabbing if come across by accident."

"DC, then?" Devon suggested.

Brenna shrugged.

Tibbik folded his arms across his desk. "Until we learn her real name, 'DC' is as good as anything else. I'll restrict her records to secure access, and advise med staff who come into contact with her to refer to her as 'DC.'"

Brenna shook her head. "Boy, is my Dad in for a surprise when he gets back."


	5. Chapter 5

Shadows of the Mind

Chapter Five

By the time they returned to Croyus Four, Luke was exhausted. Rupert had contacted the medical staff before landing to request two stretchers. As Luke lay down without argument on one stretcher, the staff asked him a number of questions, but when one technician tried to take his vitals, Rupert intervened. All Luke needed, he told them, was sleep, He asked them just to put him in a dark quiet room and leave him alone, so he could sleep.

And sleep he did.

When Luke awoke the next morning, he slowly opened his eyes and saw Brenna. "Hey," he said.

"Hey, yourself."

Luke propped himself up on his elbow. "How's Elaan?"

Brenna drew in a breath and let it out again. "Physically, she's doing as well as can be expected. They managed to save one foot, but had to amputate the other. Too much necrotic tissue."

Luke nodded. He'd expected as much. ,

"A lot of other trauma," Brenna went on. "Fractured ribs, broken fingers, concussion, you name it. They really did a number on her. Her broken bones have been re-set, growth stimulant administered. A prosthetic foot has been ordered and is on the way. She should be ready for rehabilitation training in a day or two, except—"

"Except, what?"

Brenna sighed. "Except that there's more to the story than that. In addition to all the broken bones and bruises and the like, there were vaginal tears, traces of semen from at least half a dozen men on her body and the clothes that you bagged. Sexual abuse in addition to the physical. Tibbik wants to talk to you before you go see her, brief you on what to expect, how to act, that sort of thing."

"I want to see him, too."

"He awaits your convenience."

"What about Aren? How much does he know? Has Tibbik talked to him yet?"

"Yeah, but…in addition to losing his father, he's feeling overwhelmed by what's happened to Elaan and by all the changes between his homeworld and Croyus Four."

"That's understandable."

"He wants to be with his Mom, he's scared, he's angry, he's confused—but pretty coherent, considering."

"I'll bet it'll be good for both of them to have him with her. Let him go see her as soon as Tibbik clears it." He pushed up to a sitting position, and started to stand, but Brenna held out her hand in a gesture to wait.

"There's another problem, too, that could use your attention."

"What's that?" Luke asked.

"We found the source of the 'voices' in my office."

"Oh?"

Then Brenna told him about DC.

.

.

.

In his meeting with Tibbik, Luke outlined his entire relationship with Briande/Elaan briefed Tibbik on Elaan's role as a "conductor" on the "Way," and on Elaan's situation when he found her. Luke found it something of a release to be telling his story without burdening Brenna or Rupert any further. Tibbik's concern for Luke's own well-being made it easier, but Luke kept the focus on Elaan, whose need was more immediate. Tiibbik, in turn, offered his advice to Luke, which Luke considered to be fairly reasonable: help Elaan feel safe, help her regain control of her own life, and above all, be patient.

Then Luke asked Tibbik about DC, asked how he could help.

Tibbik told him that while he knew general techniques for dealing with trauma in children, he had never encountered anything like this. In the first place, the implants made the case entirely unique, and in the second place, the child's Force-sensitivity was completely outside of his training and experience. Tibbik needed more than just Luke's help. He needed Luke's involvement.

In the end, Tibbik invited Luke to do whatever he could with either the child or Elaan, especially since Luke was the main Force-expert at hand, and both Elaan and the child were Force-sensitives.

They had wakened DC from her induced coma, restraining her as a precaution, and she reacted as a wild animal might when caught in a trap. The hibernation sickness had worn off, and her vision had been restored, but the return of her sight and removal of the implants did nothing to calm her. She struggled violently against her restraints, and continued struggling until exhaustion overcame her and she fell into a fitful sleep. Through the Force, Luke sensed from the girl only anger, fear, aggression from the girl.

Luke watched the girl from an observation window, feeling a tremendous pity for the child, but not really knowing what he could do for her. The only thing he could suggest was that if the feeding tube were removed, the girl might grow hungry enough to take something by mouth.

He watched through the observation window as a nurse tried to spoon feed the girl a dish full of some cheesy pasta concoction that was often a favorite among young children. The girl's wrists and ankles remained necessarily restrained to keep her from hurting herself or the medical staff. Luke didn't like it—neither had Tibbik—but until the child calmed down enough to remove them, it was either that, or keep her knocked out, which would only postpone the problem.

Luke could only admire the nurse's patience. She spoke in an even, friendly tone, telling the child that she had never met a kid who didn't love this meal, took a bite of it herself to show how "delicious" it was—and, Luke suspected, to allay any fear that the food might be poisoned—but the child was having none of it. She twisted her head this way and that, fought against her restraints, and the food ended up on the child's face and bedclothes, and on the nurse trying to feed her, but not in child's mouth.

The only interesting thing was that at one point the girl pretended to take a bite, but then spat it back out at the nurse. Luke tapped on the window to let the nurse know that that was enough for now. They'd try again later, maybe when the child was a bit more hungry.

There was nothing more he could do for the child at the moment, so he went to see Elaan.

He saw by the monitor at the nurse's station that she was awake. He nabbed a blanket and a reader, then knocked softly on her door before entering.

The room was dim, but not fully dark. Luke turned up the lights halfway. "Elaan," he said quietly. "It's Luke. I've come to sit with you for a while and keep you company." He let the folds of the blanket fall out, and went to her bed and covered her with it, putting his hands on her shoulders through the cloth. He didn't touch her directly, but he wanted to let her know that she wasn't alone, that someone who cared about her was with her, and give her whatever physical comfort or Force-warmth he could. Then he pulled a chair next to her bed. "I've brought a poem to read. 'The Seasons of the Spur-Rat.' It was one of your favorites in your 'before-time.' If you don't want me to read it, or if you want me to leave, just say so, and I'll stop reading or leave you alone, whatever you want."

She didn't answer, so Luke began to read.

The poem was about the life-cycle of a rodent species native to a savagely beautiful and inhospitable planet with seasons so extreme that sentients were not native and rarely stayed there for any length of time. The spur-rat was one of the few species that survived there. It was the most appropriate thing Luke could think of to read to her. He read through the poem, starting with spring, and got through the first three seasons without any reaction. Then he began the section titled "Winter."

His baritone voice read softly: "Now is the winter of despair. The air is a bitter, burning freeze in the lungs. Beauty, swirls, curls of color have faded, are gone. Holed in hollowed tunnels beneath the snows, Darker than the midnights of desolation, it barely lives. Now the hollow-eyed creature gnaws the bones of its weaker brethren. It lives, barely, in a wasteland of loneliness. Endless barren. Gray death—"

That's when he heard the quiet half-sob, and he stopped reading. "Elaan," he said softly, "if you want me to stop, I will. But if you listen to the end, I think you'll find a ray of hope in the poem. Shall I continue?"

Wordlessly, she nodded. Luke smiled a little at the knowledge that she was listening, and finished reading the poem, told how the spur-rat emerged in the spring, to mate, birth a litter, and start the cycle of life again.

She was listening.

It was enough, for now.

.

.

.

Luke continued to look in on 'DC as she had come to be called, and tried to be there especially at meal times, when there would be the best chance for interaction. Some of the nurses were beginning to lose patience, but the one nurse Luke had seen the first time he visited DC demonstrated as much persistence and kindness the twentieth time he saw her as she had on the first. But DC continued her belligerent battle, steadfastly refusing to eat and fighting violently against those who were trying to help her. Nutrients were added to her IV fluids to prevent too much damage from the self-imposed hunger strike. If she ever actually swallowed any food, Luke didn't see it, and it wasn't noted in her chart.

There was no change in what he felt from the child in the Force, either. All he felt from her were the same Dark emotions: anger, fear aggression. Wave after wave. Sometimes just one of those emotions, sometimes a pair, and sometimes all three.

Brenna called a meeting on DC. The meeting consisted of just herself, Luke, Rupert, Devon Martuk, and Tibbik. Rupert was there because he had a unique perspective on madness and the Force, as well as second-hand experience with carbonite preservation. Tibbik because his speciality was human psychology. Luke because he was the Force "expert." Devon because of his investment in the Center. And Brenna because not only was she the Chief Administrator of Croyus Four, but because the child had been found in her office, and because she was a Force-sensitive herself.

"So what do you think, Dad?" Brenna asked Luke.

"I'm sorry, Bren. I don't have anything to offer."

"Surely there's got to be a way to help her, to…redeem her," Brenna pressed.

Luke sighed. "All I get from her is anger, fear, and aggression. If there was something else, _anything_ else, I'd say…maybe. But…I don't have an answer for this one."

Brenna looked to the psychologist. "Doctor?"

"I've contacted colleagues, as I said I would, but I'm afraid this is beyond their scope, as well. I can treat trauma, certainly, but _this_…" He shook his head. "There is no data to indicate a course of action with the child."

The group around the table fell silent. Then Brenna asked, "What about re-freezing her? Maybe it was a mistake to bring her out of hibernation. I could have facilities brought in—"

"I wouldn't recommend it," Rupert advised. "My Dad tells me it wasn't an experience he'd ever care to repeat."

"I concur," Tibbik said. "Carbonite preservation is reserved for transport of extreme cases. It has never, to my knowledge, been used to hibernate the same person twice. I cannot foresee the consequences of refreezing the child."

"There has to be _something_ we can do for DC."

Luke shrugged. Tibbik shook his head. Rupert spread his hands.

Brenna sighed.

.

.

.

Luke visited Elaan frequently, never staying long, giving her time to rest in between. Each time, he knocked softly on the door, announced himself quietly, covered her with the blanket—touching her briefly only through the thick layers of fabric—sat down on the chair. and talked to her softly, either reading something or just talking. Sometimes, when he didn't feel like talking, he'd play music for her, something that she had liked when she was 'Briande.'

Brenna and Aren visited, too, but Elaan's response had been pretty much the same as with Luke. She said nothing, was mainly lost in her own world.

In the meantime, Brenna tried to help Aren adjust to life on Croyus Four, showing him how things worked, arranging for him to take swimming lessons in the aquatic facility, helping him get the layout of the Center, teaching him basic safety protocols. Everything was new to him, wondrous and confusing at the same time. He was uncomfortable with most of it. The swimming, however, he took to like a fish. He already had some basic rudiments, and the pool offered him a physical exertion to help distract his mind from his mother's condition and his own awkwardness in the confusing off-world environment.

When Elaan finally spoke, it was to Luke. It started much like all his other visits.

Luke knocked, entered, covered her with the blanket, and took the chair. "You're safe, now, Elaan," he repeated for the umpteenth time. "Aren is, too."

Then, finally, she spoke. In a barely audible voice, she whispered, "Timmon…"

"Timmon is—I'm sorry, Elaan, but Timmon is—"

Still barely audible, she finished Luke's sentence. "—Timmon is dead. They killed him."

"Yes," Luke said softly. "I'm sorry."

"You came for me. You saved me."

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I didn't know you were in trouble. You were shielding."

"Shielding…" she didn't understand.

Luke shook his head. "It's not important now."

She inhaled a sob. "Timmon is dead," she repeated.

"I'm sorry, Elaan. He was a good man."

She moved under his hand. "_Why_?" she whispered.

Luke understood the question, but not the answer. Why did they kill Timmon? Why did they hurt her? Why the abuse? "I don't know. It's…a sickness. That's the only thing I can think of."

"I told Aren to get you," she said.

"He did."

"I…spoke your name aloud. They wanted to know who you were, where to find you.." Her breathing became quick, almost panting. It was the closest thing to a laugh that she could manage. "I told them…told them to look to the stars."

"That must have pissed them off," Luke commented.

"It…angered them, yes." Her breathing remained quick, and she lifted the blankets that covered her to look at the stump at the end of her leg, where her foot used to be.

"I'm sorry, Elaan. They were able to save your other foot, but had to amputate that one. They'll give you a new one as soon as you feel up to it."

"A new…foot," she said. She let the blankets fall and closed her eyes.

Luke smiled. "It's not so bad. Look." He moved to the other side of her bed where she was facing, to show her his bionic hand.

She opened her eyes again to look at his prosthetic, but still did not meet his gaze. "A mechanical hand…I did not know."

"It will take a bit of getting used to, but once you do, no one will be able to tell that you have…a mechanical foot."

She finally looked at him, finally, for a brief moment, and a trace of grim humor touched the corners of her mouth. "Between the two of us, we shall make a complete person, eh?"

Luke was glad of the tiny joke. She was not only talking now, but able to make a joke. It gave him hope that she was recovering. He reached out to nearly touch her face, but she shrunk away, and he immediately pulled his hand back, chiding himself for expecting too much too quickly.

.

.

.

The next time Luke saw Elaan, he could tell that she had been crying, but she turned away from him when he entered. At the same time, he heard a sharp intake of breath that might have been a suppressed sob.

"What is it?" Luke asked. "Is the pain bad? I'll tell them to adjust your meds."

She shook her head.

"Timmon, then?"

She didn't answer.

"Elaan, I'm sorry I couldn't help him."

"No," she murmured, and turned away. "Not your fault. Mine."

"_Your_ fault?"

"I felt the danger. I went to warn him. He died trying to save me."

Luke breathed in deeply. TIbbik had warned him that the death of someone close often caused the survivors to feel unreasonably guilty. It was a form of grief, Tibbik had explained. "Elaan, Timmon was a conductor on the Way long before you came along. He knew the risks."

"He was very brave. I loved him for it. And I…betrayed him, his family."

"How? Aren told me that you sent him to warn them before coming to get me."

Elaan shook her head. "They are very attached to their home. I doubt they would leave it. They would know the danger and stay, despite of it."

"And they're in danger?"

"I do not know."

"Tell me. I might be able to help."

"The bonders…asked me…who helped him. The pain was great. I wanted them to stop…"

"And you told them about Doran?"

She sobbed. "I do not know. I may have…"

Luke drew in a deep breath, blew it out again. "But you don't know."

She didn't reply, turned further away.

"Elaan, I may be able to help you know for sure. And if Doran and his family _are_ in danger, I'll send Rupert back to help protect them."

She turned to look at him. Her expression was confused.

"It would mean…reliving some of what you went through." Luke admitted. "But I think…I might also be able to help you distance those memories afterward."

"Distance…?" She didn't comprehend what he meant.

"Uh, make the memories less raw. Like they happened longer ago. I'd like to help you, Elaan. Will you let me?"

Comprehension dawned. "Like you helped the wizard-born healer?"

"Jenin, yes. Exactly like I helped Jenin. Well, something like that, anyway. But a lot of it won't be pleasant, and I can't guarantee anything. Do you want me to try?"

"I need to know," she whispered softly. "I need to know if I betrayed them. The rest…does not matter. But I need to know if I betrayed them."

"Okay." Luke gave her a small reassuring smile, then drew in a deep breath, let it out again, stilled his emotions. "Can I hold your hands? Physical touch often helps with a novice link."

For an answer, she held out her hands to him. He took them, trying to convey as much reassurance as he could through the physical connection between them. He took another deep, cleansing breath.

Then he sent out a questing thought, seeking to make his first mental connection with Elaan, hoping against reason that he would find something of Briande still in her.

_Elaan_.

_Luke._

Luke breathed. The link had been easy to establish—much easier than he'd expected for a complete novice—and the name entered his subvocal thoughts involuntarily. _Brie…_

_No_. A wave of sadness washed over him. It came not from himself, but from her. _Only Elaan_.

She started to pull away, then, but Luke gripped her hands tighter, as if he could hold onto the mind-link by holding onto her physically. _I know,_ he told her in the link. _Elaan, not Brie. I'm…sorry._

_I cannot be who you want me to be._

_I know. I'm sorry._

_I cannot be other than Elaan._

_I know. You're Elaan. You loved Timmon. You're Aren's mother._

_And Brenna's._ She was sad again, but didn't pull back from the link. _But I was not there for her._

_Not your fault_

_Strange to have a daughter grown and not even remember her birthing._

_Elaan…I might be able to help you remember some of that, remember who you were in your before-time._

Luke sensed apprehension from her. _Would I then forget Timmon and Aren, as I have forgotten you and Brenna?_

_No. But it might…distance your memories a bit._

There was that sadness from her again. _I cannot. Timmon is worth remembering._

Luke was sad, too. It had been his greatest hope that he might have Briande back. _I understand._

_I do not wish to change who I am._

_I understand. I wouldn't want to change who I am, either. Or give up my memories of you from your before-time. Or give up my memories of Brenna._

She relaxed a little then. But the talk of memories brought unbidden, unwanted memories from her capture, and of Timmon's death. She closed her eyes against them and started to pull away, but again Luke squeezed her hands.

_No. This is why we're here._ 'Here' being not a physical place, but the place in the Force where their minds were meeting. _Do you still want to know?_

_Yes! But…I am afraid. You said I would relive it…_

_If I help you distance it, you would re-live it only this once. After that, you would know what happened, you would remember what happened, but it would…feel like it happened a long time ago._

He could feel the hope that began to swell inside her. _To 'distance' that, but not Timmon…You can do that?_

_I think so._

Apprehension again. _I do not deserve it. I should have died in his place._

_No. He loved you. As I love you. _

_I do not deserve your love. And I am not Briande._

_Elaan is worth loving, too. _

_Elaan betrayed Doran. Can you love someone like that?_

_We don't know that you betrayed Doran. Not yet. Even if you did, it was under duress, and I can send Rupert to help. Doran's family will be safe, and you, Elaan, are worth loving. _

_I need to know…_

_Yes. It will be hard. Try not to block me. Remember that it is not happening now, that it's only a memory of what happened before. I'll have to go deeper…_

_Yes…_

As Luke pushed deeper, he began searching her memories for what, exactly, had happened to her. And as he found them, she began to cry. But she did not cry alone. Luke shared her grief, shared her pain, reassured her that she was still worth loving.

They were so focused on finding the answers that Elaan needed, that neither one of them noticed that a third mind had picked up on the intensity of their emotions within the link, and was hovering on the fringes.

Aren.

.

.

.

Elaan hadn't betrayed Doran's family. The pain had been so agonizing that she had _thought_ about it, but she hadn't done it in fact. She hadn't done anything worse than say Luke's name aloud, and tell them to "look to the stars" if they wanted to find him, knowing full well that Luke was out of their reach and knowing too that her apparent defiance would cost her, even though she told them the absolute truth. Luke showed her through the link how much he admired her courage in standing up to them and bearing the torture.

There was one bonder who was especially brutal, a black-haired, black-bearded man with a distinctive scar, who had mutilated her feet, broken her bones, initiated the rapes. Understandably, her hatred for the bonder created a dark place within her. Luke was able to help her distance the memories, and the dark place, while it didn't disappear entirely, shrank so that it wasn't so much at the forefront of who she was.

As with any link, they had inadvertently shared secrets. It was the facet of mind-links that created the type of intimacy that Luke had missed for so long. Knowing each other's secret, and yet accepting the other—there was nothing else like it, no form of physical intimacy that could ever come close. Luke had glimpsed Elaan's fear that she was _using_ him. He had saved her, and she had given him nothing in return. He rebuked her gently by reminding her that he had _told_ her to send Aren to him if there was trouble, and he had _offered_ to help her remember whether she had betrayed Timmon's brother's family. For his part, Luke unintentionally revealed his longing for Briande, how Elaan reminded him of her every time he looked at her, how much he hoped—_prayed_—that he might find some part of her in Elaan, how he wanted desperately to retrieve her memories as Briande. Elaan could only reiterate that she was Elaan, and though she was drawn to Luke in a way she could not explain, she had also been Timmon's wife, had loved Timmon, and missed him. Luke assured her that she had never been anything but honest with him. He accepted her decision not to try to retrieve her memory, but hoped that his relationship with Elaan would grow into something more than just a mutual attraction.

But Elaan wasn't ready for anything else. Not yet. She didn't know where she was, where she was going, only where she had been since she awakened in Timmon's house after the crash. In the end, they agreed that they both needed time. Elaan needed time to mourn Timmon, and time to adjust to her strange, new off-world life. And time for Luke to come to know her as Elaan rather than Briande.

There was one other gift that Luke could give her. He sensed her longing for Timmon's family, her desire to reassure them that they were safe, her yearning to see her home again. Luke told her in the link, that when she was able to get around with her new prosthetic, he would take her back to her homeworld, to her home, to Doran's home, wherever she wanted to go.

He made the offer to motivate her to work on her recovery, and her gratitude made Luke smile a little sadly. It was the last sub vocal communication between them before Luke broke the connection so she could rest.

He hoped it wouldn't be their only mind-link.

He missed Briande. And…he was beginning to miss Elaan. He missed the _here_ where they met. The intimacy.

Missed it already.


	6. Chapter 6

Shadows of the Mind

Chapter Six

After the mind-link, Luke had thought Elaan was well on her way to recovering, but then he got a call from Tibbik.

Elaan wasn't eating.

Luke was surprised. He went to see her.

She greeted him warmly, and he got right to business. "Elaan, is there anything wrong? Anything you want to tell me?"

She shook her head.

"Is everything all right?"

She shrugged. "They are so kind to me here."

Luke smiled. "They're probably glad to have a real patient. Most of what they see here is runny noses and upset stomachs. So, no problems?"

"No...Although I am a little hungry…"

"Tibbik tells me you're not eating."

She frowned. "There is nothing to eat."

Luke stared at her for a second, then rubbed his eyes and laughed. There was no _real_ problem here, only a misunderstanding. Elaan didn't know how to operate the meal dispenser. "I'm sorry, Elaan. I'll take care of it." Later he'd tell the staff to order her meals _for_ her. He'd also tell them to make sure she knew the names of whatever she was eating, so she'd be able to operate the dispenser later.

He immediately punched in an order, and retrieved the bowl of soup and crackers and gave it to her. "Cream of belini soup," he told her. "Let me know if you like it." It had been something Briande had liked.

Elaan took a sip and nodded. "Delicious," she said. "Thank you."

Luke ordered another cream of belini soup for himself, took it out of the dispenser, and sat down to share the meal and visit for a while.

Elaan's progress after that was, according to Tibbik, nothing short of remarkable. He teased Luke about his potential new career in psychology and was half serious about wanting to write a paper on the effects of Force-powers on traumatic healing.

Luke replied that he hadn't helped the carbonite child at all, and pointed out that the paper would have to be a case study rather than one based on statistical research.

As for DC, Luke began to notice that her rage and her struggles against the restraints were more intense when it was a human who was checking on her rather than a medical 'droid.

And then one day, Luke raised an eyebrow as the girl seemed to study her restraints, there was a wave of energy in the Force, and Luke saw the restraint start to unbuckle itself. So, whatever else DC was, she was definitely a telekin. Luke sent the Two-One-Bee 'droid into her room, and had the restraints traded out for padded binders that a child—even a gifted telekinetic—would be unlikely to figure out.

Luke's idea of having a 'droid bring her meals was implemented. Artoo, having a very non-human appearance and greater than human patience, was appointed for the task. It worked, and DC no longer had to be fed through intravenous methods. In fact, as long as she didn't come into any human contact, she was relatively calm, although Luke continued to sense the Dark emotions from her. Having her attended by 'droids wasn't a cure; it was just…the best alternative at the moment. It was far from ideal, but until Luke and Tibbik could figure out how to encourage a _human_ interaction, there was little other choice. At least with a 'droid attendant, she finally began eating.

Luke suggested that with 'droid-only attendants, perhaps DC might be released from her restraints, provided that there was a "buffer" entrance—an old double-door airlock that could be adapted for the purpose—for a layer of security, and a modified ventilation system so that anesthesia gasses could be administered to knock the girl unconscious if there was an emergency. The modifications were made, and Artoo released the binders. The girl paced the room, fed herself, used the toilet, but otherwise showed no interest in hygiene, in the vid-screen or computer entertainments, or anything. There was no preference in any food over another. Whatever was brought in, she ate. Luke made a small experiment of ordering for her a vegetable that children typically disliked, along with a dish that children typically enjoyed. She ate both, equally, and Luke sensed no difference in her emotional state with either food. He continued to sense from her only anger, fear, and aggression.

Otherwise, there wasn't anything Luke could do for the girl. She was unreachable through human interaction, unreachable through the Force.

Tibbik reminded Luke that he had done more for her than anyone else had, even if it wasn't Force-generated healing, and told Luke a psychology career was still an option.

Meanwhile, Luke continued to observe DC through observation glass and monitors, and racked his brain for any other ideas that might help her. Without the binders, she paced her room like a caged animal.

As to _why_ the girl had been so mistreated, the only theory Luke and Tibbik could come up with was that she was the victim of a mind-control experiment.

Then one afternoon, while Luke was resting in the quarters that had been provided for him and Artoo was bringing DC her lunch, the girl managed to use the Force to depress the latch of the outer door to fool the airlock into thinking it was sealed, and when Artoo came through the inner door, she vaulted over him, pulled the outer door open enough to squeeze through, and escaped the confines of her room.

Luke was sleeping when DC escaped, and only woke when Tibbik called him to report an "incident."

.

.

.

DC had been successfully subdued, and was now back in her room, once again restrained, again with the padded binders rather than the easier to manipulate medical restraints. She was alone in her room, but raged against her restraints with a fury no one would have thought possible in a child. In addition, anything not bolted was being hurled around the room with Force-energy. The drawers of a dresser had been pulled out and smashed into splinters, apparently of their own volition, and their meager contents strewn about the room, and periodically re-strewn as they caught the girl's attention again.

Luke switched the live feed of DC in her room to the recorded security footage of DC on her rampage, and he and Brenna watched the video together. In addition to physically fighting off anyone who came near her and using her hands to throw objects, DC also used the Force to hurl loose equipment at the security personnel who tried to subdue her. The only sign that there was any intelligence in the girl was that she had kept the true extent of her telekinesis abilities secret until this escape attempt.

Luke blew out a breath. He didn't know what he could do for the child. She was just too damaged.

Then the girl stopped, suddenly. Stood in front of a windowed door and stared inside. Her pause or hesitation allowed the security personnel to grab her and wrestle her to a gurney. One of them grabbed his throat, but as the others wheeled the girl away, he was able to breathe again. One of the others stayed to check on him briefly before hurrying after the girl.

Luke leaned forward, more interested in something other than the Force-choke that the girl had employed with the security guard. Luke rewound the video to the point where the girl had stopped, and watched it again.

He switched the angle and tightened on the girl's face.

"What's she seeing?" he wondered aloud. He switched to the security camera inside the room where she'd been looking. It was Elaan, in rehab therapy, learning to walk again with her new foot. She'd put weight on her weak real foot, lost her balance, and caught herself on the parallel bars as the nurse grabbed her from behind to keep her from falling. Elaan said something to the nurse, and they both smiled.

Luke switched back to the view of the girl's face as she watched.

"She's _confused_," Luke realized. "She thinks Elaan is Brenna Brellis."

Brenna considered that. "Confusion isn't anger," she said.

"No," Luke agreed. "It's not."

"And it's not fear, either."

"No, not fear, either."

"Nor aggression."

"Nor aggression," Luke concurred.

"Didn't you say that if you had anything but anger, fear, or aggression from her, you could work with it?"

"I did say that," Luke admitted.

Brenna patted him on the back. "So you have something to work with."

Luke sighed and raised his eyes heavenward to appeal to the Deities. "Couldn't you have given me something _easier_ to work with?"

Brenna smiled and nudged her father. "Ah, now, where's the challenge in _that_?"

Luke gave her a dirty look, then took out his com-link and thumbed it. "Tibbik, it's Luke."

"I assume you saw our patient's little 'adventure'?" Tibbik asked.

"Just finished watching the security feed."

"And?"

"And I'd like you to make those arrangements we discussed earlier."

There was a pause. "You mean the adjoining rooms with the one-way window."

"Right."

Luke could almost hear the grin in Tibbik's voice. "Does this mean you think there's a chance to save her?"

"A small one, but yes."

"And here I was thinking that you would give up on her after that latest incident!"

"No. Just the opposite. Oh, and I'll want a continuous security feed from her room patched through to archives. 'View only' and only on your or my authorization."

"You got it. Anything else?"

"The key to her binders. I don't think we'll be needing them anymore."

"You know," Tibbik said, "if you manage to cure her, I know whole hospitals full of mentally ill and criminally insane patients who could use your help."

Luke chuckled and switched off the link. He wasn't interested in anything beyond the welfare of one currently demented but perhaps not completely unreachable little girl.


	7. Chapter 7

Shadows of the Mind

Chapter Seven

.

"That is all you want me to say?" Elaan asked.

"Just that," Luke confirmed. "And…smile when you say it, okay?"

Elaan smiled and balanced herself with her cane.

Luke signaled Artoo to turn on its recording circuitry. "Ready," he said.

Still smiling, Elaan said, "This is my friend Luke. Do what he says, and he will help you."

Luke switched off the recording function. "Perfect," he said.

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.

.

Techniques for mind-control and brain-washing typically involved long periods of abuse punctuated by small kindnesses or lessening of abuse, intended to manipulate the victim into developing positive feelings toward the abuser. It didn't always work, but when it did, de-programming generally involved helping the victim to see the abuse for what it was, and to see the small kindnesses for the manipulations that they really were.

The girl was too young to fully comprehend all the facets of the manipulation, and what didn't always work on an adult may very well have had an irreversible impact on her, especially when a lot of Force-suggestion was incorporated. And the effect of the implants was entirely unknown.

Luke was determined to give it his best, however.

The standard deprogramming techniques were unlikely to be effective, which was why Luke was resorting to his "alternative" method. He just hoped that he was right, and that the original Brenna Brellis had successfully manipulated the girl into having some positive feelings for her. He could use that to his advantage, and eventually to help the girl separate truth from deception, and eventually develop something approaching a healthy mindset.

Luke took a food tray with him, a simple sandwich and a glass of flavored milk, covered with a lid. He didn't want to give her anything that required utensils, yet. The girl hadn't eaten since her escape, and Luke asked that she not be given anything for the time being except by him. He wanted her hungry enough that she might be willing to eat on her own in the presence of another human—himself for now, others later.

Luke waited until the girl had been moved into her new room and had nearly exhausted herself fighting against her bonds before going into her room with Artoo and setting the lunch tray on the table that had necessarily been bolted down before she was moved into the room.

At the sight of him, she started fighting again, made incoherent gutteral sounds, and used the Force to hurl the lid of the lunch tray at him. Luke caught the lid in his own Force-grip, held it in mid-air, then pushed it back down over the food. His Force-pull was stronger than the girl's, and the lid landed back on the tray with a _thunk!_

She tried to constrict his throat, which he was also able to counter, but her level of power was rather more than he would expect in someone so young.

He could sense the girl's frustration, but before he could signal Artoo to project the image of Elaan, she turned her attention to the chest of drawers, and started pulling them out. Luke pushed those back as he had the food cover, and signaled Artoo to project a life-size freeze-image of Elaan.

The image was more effective than any drug they could have used on her. She quieted immediately, and stared at it. Luke just hoped he was right about Brenna Brellis wanting to recruit the girl as an asset. In order to do that, she'd probably at least _pretended_ to befriend the girl on some level – probably after having her tortured in some way.

DC remained quiet, unmoving, as she stared at the still image. Luke signaled Artoo to play the recording.

"This is my friend Luke," said the recorded Elaan. "Do what he says, and he will help you."

Luke had Artoo freeze the image again. The girl continued to stare at it for another minute, then turned to look at Luke. Her eyes were wide with apprehension. She was wary of him, but whatever conditioning had been done to her made her ready to obey "Brenna Brellis" without question.

Luke smiled. "Good morning," he said. "My name is Luke. I'm going to be your teacher." He pulled the key to her binders from its pouch on his belt and manually unlocked one of her binders; he didn't want her to get the idea that she could unlock them with the Force.

When her hand was free, she waved it towards Luke with the intent of physically hitting him. He caught her wrist easily and held it firmly. "If you want to be released," he told her, "you can't hit anyone."

She was breathing heavily, but stopped fighting.

"Good," Luke said. He released her hand, unlocked her feet, and moved to her other wrist.

When she was completely free, she rolled off the hospital bed, landed on the floor, scrambled to the corner, and stared at Elaan's image. Luke signaled Artoo to turn it off, and her eyes returned to him suspiciously.

"I know you may find this a little hard to believe right now," Luke said, "but I _am_ a friend. And I bet you're hungry by now, so I brought you something to eat." Now he lifted the lid to the tray. Her eyes flicked to the sandwich and milk, then back to him. Tibbik warned him against saying "The food is safe"—it might instill the idea that in fact it was _not_ safe—so Luke used the same technique he had seen the nurse use. "Looks good. Mind if I have a bite?" He broke off a piece of the sandwich and ate it to show her, then held the plate with the sandwich out to her, and she shrunk back. "No? Some milk, maybe? Chocolate flavored." He took a swallow to show her it was safe. "Perfect. Just the right amount of chocolate." He held it out to her, but she turned her head away. "Maybe later, then," he said, setting the milk back down.

Luke reached into his belt-pouch again, and pulled out two bracelets: a larger one with a black band, buttons, and a display, and a much smaller one studded with glittery fake rhinestones to make it attractive to a little girl. He snapped the black one onto his own wrist, and held up the other one. "This is for you," he said. He held it so she could see the display, which was set to "0". "It's a counter," Luke explained. "You earn points by following the rules. And you lose points by breaking the rules. Now, because you've been listening to me so nicely, you've earned yourself a point." He pressed a button on his bracelet, and the girl's counter immediately switched to a "1".

Luke nodded to Artoo to switch on the monitor that was bolted to a corner of the room. "You can 'buy' things with your points." The monitor showed a variety of toys, whatever Luke could scrounge up from the Rescue Center, anything a little girl might like, each with a point value displayed next to it. "Twice a day you'll have the opportunity to buy things with your points. You can use the wall pad to control the display and see what's available."

The girl twisted her arms around each other, and aside from one brief flick of her eyes toward the monitor, she completely ignored it and the wall pad.

Well, Luke thought, maybe he was pushing it with the reward system.

But just her sitting there in the corner, not trying to hurl things or strangle him was an improvement.

"One thing I've noticed," Luke went on, "is that you need a bath. I've made arrangements for a nurse to come and give you one. Since this is your first, if you cooperate, I'll give you two points for it. But if you don't cooperate, I'll subtract the point you just earned. Do you understand?"

She didn't answer. Of course, she didn't answer. He suppressed a sigh and said, "You might want to eat, first. It's going to be a while before dinner."

For several minutes, she just stayed where she was and continued to twist her arms in and out of each other. Her eyes darted around the room repeatedly.

Then, finally, her eyes focused on the food tray, although her arms continued to move around each other.

Luke backed away, gave her more space, while wondering whether Brenna Brellis' hold over the child and her hunger were stronger than the rage of emotions working in her.

Finally, the girl's hunger, or Brenna Brellis' brainwashing, got the better of her. She made a noise in her throat, reached out her hand, and the sandwich flew into it.

Luke was elated. There was something reachable in her, after all. He grinned, crossed his arms, and leaned against the wall, continuing to watch her.

She shoved the food into her mouth greedily, smearing it all around her mouth in the process.

When it was gone, she turned her attention to the milk, which turned out to be more problematic. After she sloshed some out of the glass trying to levitate it, she set it back down, pulled herself up with the help of her bed, grabbed the glass, and gulped it down so fast that much of it dribbled down her chin.

Luke tapped the connection on his com-link, to signal the nurse—the same one that had shown so much patience with the girl earlier, and whom Luke had requested for this assignment—that DC was ready for her bath. Then he turned his attention back to the girl.

He smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed your lunch," he said. "You ate it all. That's worth another point." He touched his wrist band, and the girl's purple bejeweled bracelet on the table chimed, and the display changed to "2".

The girl showed no interest in the wrist band. Luke suppressed a sigh.

"The nurse will be here shortly," he said. "In the meantime, if you tell me your name, we won't have to use the name we made up for you anymore."

The girl buried her head into her shoulder and turned away. So much for that, Luke thought.

"Do you have a favorite story?" Luke asked. "If you do, I'll read it to you after your bath. If not, I'll just have to pick one that my daughter Brenna liked when she was your age."

The mention of the name 'Brenna' brought a sharp look from the girl. At that moment, the door buzzed, and the nurse entered. She was wearing a smile when she came in, bearing a towel, washcloths, and clean clothes. When she saw DC free of her binders, the smile grew, and she glanced at Luke with raised eyebrows.

Luke shrugged in response. He hadn't really done anything; it was the image of Elaan whom DC thought was Brenna Brellis that did the trick.

"Go with the nurse," Luke said to the girl. "Get your bath, and I'll bet you'll feel a whole lot better."

The nurse held out her hand to the girl, but the child shirked away. Luke gave his head a tiny shake, and the nurse instead indicated which way to go to the bathroom. The girl stood up slowly and followed the nurse to the bathroom. Luke situated himself to where he could watch the nurse, in case DC tried to use her Force-stranglehold again, but still left the child with a degree of privacy.

The bath went without a problem, and DC was returned to Luke in a considerably cleaner state, but that was as much as Luke was able to accomplish in this visit. He tried reading a story to the girl, finishing it despite her apparent lack of attention. He tried getting her to draw or write something, succeeded only in getting a black scribble, which he would pass on to Tibbik, made so aggressively that she nearly cracked the screen of the drawing tablet. He offered to redeem the points she'd earned for one of the toys, but she seemed totally disinterested.

Most of the things he asked her to do she did obediently, albeit restlessly. If he asked her to stand, she stood. If he asked her to sit, she sat. All the while, her eyes darted around nervously. But anything that involved speech, she refused to do.

She said absolutely nothing. The only sounds that came out of her mouth were the same gutteral grunts she had made for the medical people. Despite Luke's best efforts to elicit a simple yes or no answer from her, she either refused to talk or couldn't talk.

When dinner time came, Luke ordered his own dinner—another sandwich, like the girl's—to be brought up with hers, hoping to get her used to eating with other human beings.

When she was done eating, her eyes resumed darting around the room again. Luke watched her, curious what she would do. Finally her eyes fell on the bracelet, and Luke waited hopefully to see if she would put it on. He grew even more hopeful when she used the Force to call it to herself, but his hopes died away again when she grabbed it physically and threw it across the room.

Luke held back another sigh.

His first interaction with the girl had made only small progress.

But it _was_ progress, at least.

.

.

.

Luke hoped the physical activities he had planned for DC would wear out some of her aggressive energy.

The hospital rec room where volunteers had sometimes gone to work off a little steam during their breaks had been officially closed to staff and turned into a children's gymnasium—or rather, a _child's_ (singular) gymnasium—with nary a peep of complaint. The halls had been cleared, per Luke's request and Brenna's orders, and there wasn't another soul as Luke escorted DC to the gym.

It was good, Luke decided, to have a daughter who was the boss.

He didn't have much planned for DC on this first visit, just a simple game of catch. He had no idea how weak she might be from her hibernation, induced coma, and days of confinement. On the one hand, she had been mostly strapped down since she was brought out of hibernation. On the other hand, she had spent much of that time fighting against her restraints. So how much her muscles may have atrophied, he couldn't say. But based on what he had seen of her brief rampage when she had escaped her room, she was still pretty strong.

They entered the gym, and Luke went to the ball rack and extracted a lightweight one. "Okay," he said, "We're going to play catch. I throw the ball to you, you catch it, and throw it back to me. Got that?"

DC said nothing but stood where he indicated obediently, her eyes still shifting around the room. Luke tossed her the ball lightly. He wasn't sure if she would catch it, since she only seemed to look at him or the ball through passing glances, but she caught it and tossed it back to him without hesitation. Luke took a half-step back and tossed it again. She caught it again and returned it.

Luke kept the game up, moving a bit further back each time he threw the ball to her, and eventually she seemed to have a little trouble throwing across the distance. Luke was prepared to move on to something else, but she added a little Force-push to the ball to make up for what she wasn't able to do physically.

Luke raised his eyebrows in surprise, then threw it off slightly to the side of her to see what she would do, whether she would chase it or catch it with the Force. She deflected the angle of its direction and caught it in her hands. She threw it back to Luke, throwing it exactly the same amount off to his side, copying him exactly. Luke threw it back more to the side, and she returned it similarly. He let the game continue for a while, noting that her furtive glances had slowed somewhat, then put the ball back. After all, he had brought the girl here for some physical exercise. He pointed to the low set balance beam. "Let's see if you can walk across that," he said, stepping up onto the beam and demonstrating what he wanted her to do."

The girl stepped up and walked across. But when she reached the other end, she didn't step off as Luke had done. Instead, she turned around, did two cartwheels back the other way. Her face was impassive.

"Nice," Luke said. "I'll see if I can find a gymnast to work with you."

She seemed unsure of either the compliment or the idea of working with someone else, shrugged her shoulders and folded her arms in and out of each other, and her furtive glances sped up again.

He tried her on various other apparatus, and she demonstrated a certain amount of skill on all of them. She was no stranger to the equipment, it seemed. Then he finished with having her jog several laps around the perimeter.

All in all, not bad for a first day of exercise.

As for interaction, he couldn't really decide if she had made any progress.

But when he told Tibbik about what she had done, Tibbik was thrilled. "_Definitely_ a career in psychology," he told Luke.


	8. Chapter 8

**Shadows of the Mind**

**Chapter Eight**

In the following days, which stretched into weeks, Luke's interactions with DC coalesced into a routine. Breakfast, calendar, story, arts-and-crafts or music, math, stretching, offer of point redemption, lunch, rest, puzzles, calisthenics, science, snack, Force-training, another offer of point redemption, a walk or gym time, dinner, bath, another story, and bed. DC still hadn't said a word, only responded to questions by grunting or pointing. The only sign of frustration if she got a right or wrong answer wrong was a change in tone of her grunt. Luke wondered if perhaps she was incapable of speech, but med scans revealed nothing wrong with her vocal chords or the speech centers of her brain. Vision and hearing also tested within normal boundaries.

And aside from Luke, or obeying orders that came directly from Luke—such as cooperating with the nurse at bath-time—she didn't interact with any other human being. Not even when the nurse or Tibbik tried to engage her in conversation.

She refused to interact with any other human being or sentient.

With any other human being or sentient…

Slowly, the germ of an idea began to form in Luke's brain. He began to wonder how she would react with a non-sentient, an animal. It would have to be a friendly animal, of course, and she would have to be monitored, but…how would she react? The question tickled, and would not go away, and finally connected with information he already had.

Rupert's mortu.

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.

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Luke contacted Brenna and invited himself over for breakfast. He wanted to talk his idea over with Rupert, and wanted to catch him before he set about the day's business. He ordered eggs and toast from the food automaton, and sat down at the table to watch Brenna feed baby Han his mashed cereal and fruit. The baby gurgled and smiled at Luke, and Luke enjoyed interrupting Brenna's task by making the baby laugh at his silly faces. Luke finally stopped when Brenna expressed her frustration at not being able to accomplish her task at hand, and Luke went back to his eggs, preferring to eat them cold than to let them go to waste and order fresh hot ones, despite Rupert's assurance that they would go to compost for his planet reclamation project.

When Rupert's pet mortu—the one he had acquired on their first trip to Elaan's world, padded into the dining area and insinuated its head under Luke's hand for a rub, Luke scratched its ears and looked up at his son-in-law. "You know, Rupert," he said, "I've been thinking about that other mortu that you like—the one that won't make it as a Search and Rescue animal."

"The one Brenna won't let me keep as a pet?" he asked, with a teasing glance towards his wife.

"Yeah," Luke assented. "Uh…what kind of therapy animal do you think she would make?"

Rupert grinned, loving the idea. "She'd be perfect! Of course! I don't know why I didn't think of that myself! She'd be _excellent_ as a therapy animal!"

"Um…how would you feel about trying her out with DC?"

That caught Rupert up short, given what he had seen of the girl. "Are you sure DC is ready for being with an animal yet? I wouldn't want her to hurt the mortu…"

"Me, either, which is why I want you to be there when we try it."

Rupert's grin returned. "I was going to _insist_ upon it. When do you want me?"

"Whenever it's convenient."

"How 'bout right after lunch?"

"Perfect. That'll give me a chance to prepare DC, as best as I can."

"And _me _a chance to prepare the mortu."

.

.

.

In addition to the morning routine of calendar review, story, craft, and math games—all of which DC participated in silently and cooperatively, though not enthusiastically, and with no hint of enjoyment or distaste whatsoever—Luke showed her a picture of Rupert's mortu, explained that the animal would be coming for a visit later, and went over the "guidelines" for the visit. She could touch the animal, pet the animal, talk to the animal, maybe even feed the animal, but she mustn't hurt the animal in any way. If she did, she would lose all of the "reward" points she had accumulated thus far, and would lose desserts and treats for a week. Luke crossed his fingers and hoped the threat was sufficient. She hadn't yet shown any interest in any of the rewards Luke had offered, hadn't shown any pleasure in the sweet treats he had provided—although she had eaten them, albeit with a blank expression and eyes mainly on Luke. He didn't have any real reinforces that he could use with her, and he had no idea how she would react to the animal.

He did, however, catch a spark of _something_ in her eyes when she saw the picture of the mortu, and when lunch arrived, she ate it with perhaps just a touch more speed than she usually did.

Interesting. Had he just seen something like impatience from the child?

After lunch, he offered to redeem her points for a toy, but she simply shook her head no, and he caught several surreptitious glances to her door. Could it be that she was actually _excited_ about the impending visit from the mortu?

Luke sensed Rupert's approaching presence, and contacted him to wait just a second before he knocked, so Luke could watch the child's reaction. When the knock came, DC sucked in her lower lip and bit it almost to the point of bleeding, and her eyes were glued to the door.

Luke was elated. He just hoped his elation wasn't premature. He reminded DC about the "guidelines" for the visit, and went to open the door.

When DC and the mortu saw each other, they both stood where they were for a moment, the mortu wagging its tail. Then the animal took a few tentative steps into the room, and with a cry, DC threw herself out of the chair where she'd been sitting, and ran to the animal, practically fell down to the floor to its level, and hugged it.

Luke was astounded, and also momentarily worried. He looked up at Rupert, who held up his hand and shook his head. The mortu was fine. In fact, its tail was thumping wildly. The girl made noises that weren't really grunts but _were_ vocalizations of some sort of emotion as she buried her head against the animal's fur.

Luke's elation and astonishment only grew, and Rupert's own amazement was obvious, as well. Rupert moved to stand next to Luke as they watched the scene in front of them.

"Wow!" Rupert said. "I'm impressed! Look what you've done with her in just a short time!"

Luke shook his head and grinned.. "It's not _me_. It's your mortu.

"It's like they were _meant_ for each other."

"Maybe they were. The Force works in mysterious ways, sometimes."

_"Look_ at her! Man, she _loves_ it!"

"And the mortu?" Luke asked.

Rupert grinned, but with a twinkle that showed he was teasing. "I was _talking_ about the mortu."

Luke allowed a smile to finally stretch across his features. "I think you've finally solved my problem of how to motivate DC."

"Motivate? You mean, she doesn't cooperate with you?"

"Oh, she cooperates, but it's not because she _wants_ to. Whatever Brenna Brellis did to her—at least, I'm assuming it was the original Brenna Brellis—it makes her obey unquestioningly. But there's no…_desire_ or emotional connection involved, unless it's Dark. So far, everything's been negative or neutral. This is the first _positive_ emotion I've seen from her." He clapped Rupert on the back. "Good job."

"It's not me, it's the mortu."

"That animal have a name yet?"

"Only the one she came with: 'Magna's Mistake.' I've been calling her 'Maggie' for short."

"Sounds good to me. You bring the treats I asked for?"

Rupert dug into his pocket and pulled out a handful of treats. "I've got more," he said, handing them to Luke.

Luke gave him a nod to acknowledge, kneeled down next to DC, demonstrated how to give the mortu a treat, and held them out to the child. She took them, and proceeded to give them _all_ to the mortu, at once.

And through the Force, Luke was sensing something he hadn't felt from the girl before. She _hated_ people, but…

…But she _loved_ the mortu.

Maybe there was hope for her yet.


	9. Chapter 9

**Shadows of the Mind**

**Chapter Nine**

Luke's living space was small, so he asked to borrow Brenna's and Rupert's for the occasion of his little dinner celebration. At least, he hoped it was a celebration. Elaan was being released from the hospital today. They wanted her to return as an out-patient for continued therapy, but it wasn't absolutely necessary. He'd felt Elaan's attraction to him in the mind-link, but there was a question that had been left unasked, and unanswered.

He'd enlisted Aren's help with the meal, figuring it couldn't be a bad thing to make the boy feel useful. Aren hadn't had much to do since arriving here at Croyus Four. Brenna had assigned him a tutor to help him acclimate to the technology, a retired teacher who had been briefed only that his mother had crash-landed on a non-technical planet where he had spent his entire life, and the two had only recently been rescued. His swimming had improved considerably. Apparently the boy had had some rudiments before coming to Croyus Four, but without real facilities on his homeworld, he had been rather limited. He found the pool fascinating, and Brenna wondered if perhaps Aren himself would make a good lifeguard when he got older.

Aside from his tutoring and swimming lessons, and visiting his mother in the med center, there really wasn't much for the boy to do but grieve for his father and the family left behind. So the fact that Aren went about the tasks Luke gave him with neither enthusiasm nor complaint didn't draw the Jedi's attention. Luke made sure to ask the boy how his lessons were going, and compliment Aren where he could.

Luke had managed to get fresh vegetables for his dinner. It was a rarity on Croyus Four, but Brenna was, after all, the administrator, and once again there were advantages to having a daughter who was the boss.

Luke looked at the board of vegetables Aren had just chopped, nodded approval, and motioned for him to dump them into his stir-fry. He noted the boy's confusion on what to do with the now soiled cutting board and motioned to the table. "Just leave it there, and I'll get it later. Want to stir this for me?"

Aren said nothing, but approached Luke and stood there, willing to do whatever Luke wanted him to do, although with limited enthusiasm.

Luke handed him his wooden spoon. "Be careful," he warned. "I don't think your mother will take it kindly if I get her son burned."

The door chimed.

"Keep stirring," Luke told him. "I'll be right back." Rupert and Brenna didn't need permission to enter their own home, but Luke knew they'd have their hands full.

It was Brenna, holding baby Han and trying to juggle the infant and diaper bag. "Can I come in?" she aaked, teasing.

"Sure," Luke smiled. "I guess you can come into your own home. Thanks for the use of it."

He took the diaper bag from her and set it on the floor, and Brenna followed her father back to the kitchen. "So what's on the menu?" She fastened Han into his high chair as she waited for the answer.

"You'll see," Luke promised. He took the spoon from Aren, tasted his concoction, and nodded. "Not bad, if I do say so myself."

Brenna took the spoon from him and tasted it, too. "It's okay," she shrugged, with a teasing glint in her eye.

"Just 'okay'? Hmm, Aren, maybe you'd better taste it, too."

Brenna passed the spoon to her half-brother, who obligingly took a taste.

"Well?" Luke asked.

"It tastes…strange," the boy admitted. "As everything here does."

Luke's mouth quirked ruefully. "Well, I tried, anyway. I was hoping a home-cooked meal would help you and your mom feel a little more at home."

The door chimed again.

"That'll be Rupert and Elaan," Luke said. He wagged a finger at the cooker. "Keep stirring, one of you."

He went to answer the door, and this time it was Rupert who had his hands full, giving Elaan a hand as she navigated the porch steps without a walker.

"Hey," Luke said by way of greeting to both of them, and extended a hand to help Elaan over the threshold. She smiled and allowed them both to help her, but once past that hurdle assured both men that she could manage now, and traded helping hands for her cane. She hobbled to the couch and sat down.

"So," Rupert said, rubbing his hands together and sniffing the air, "What's for dinner?"

"Nothing, if I don't get back to the kitchen."

Luke returned to the kitchen as Rupert checked out the dining room table, which had been set with the formal tableware his mother had given him and Brenna as a wedding present. "Should I change into my tux?" he called.

"If you like," Luke answered. "But I'm not changing."

A few minutes later, he emerged from the kitchen, towel draped over his arm and bearing a bowl of stir-fry, followed by Aren and Brenna, one carrying another bowl filled with rice, and the other carrying a potato and guaco bean dish.

Luke stepped to the entranceway of the living room, whipped the towel off with a flourish, and bowed, twirling the towel. "Dinner," he announced, "is served."

.

.

.

Dinner conversation started with descriptions of baby Han's most recent accomplishments—putting most of his weight on his feet whenever Brenna held him up on the floor and babbling pretend speech whenever someone talked to him. The baby obligingly responded by babbling back when Brenna cooed nonsense sounds to him.

The conversation then turned to DC, and Luke described his progress and frustrations in dealing with her. She was cooperative, sort of, but she still hadn't spoken a word, and nothing on Luke's reward offerings seemed to spark her interest in the least, unless it was time with the moru. But she was eating, and exercising, and most importantly, she hadn't attacked anyone since Luke showed her that tridee recording of Elaan.

Then Rupert described his project with the Search and Rescue mortus, extolling the virtues of their heightened senses. He was itching to put them to work in the field, in an actual situation, rather than just training exercises.

"Be careful what you wish for," Luke warned. "But speaking of mortus, I won't be able to supervise Maggie's visits with DC for a while, but Brenna has agreed to take over for me while I'm gone. I don't _think _DC will be a problem, but this will be the first time I've left her in someone else's care without being there personally on the sidelines."

"No problem," Rupert said. "Where are you going?"

"Taking Elaan and Aren back home." He looked at Elaan.

Elaan's brows furrowed. "Home?"

"Yes." He glanced at Aren before turning his attention back to Elaan alone. "I made you a promise, remember? As soon as you were able to get around, I'd take you back to your home, either for a visit, or to stay. Your choice."

Her eyes lit with joy, and she was about to speak, but Luke waved her silent. "Wait until we get there before you tell me. What we find there may affect your answer, and I don't want to know what it is now if there's any chance you might change your mind later."

"We're going home?" Aren asked, confused, looking from Luke to Elaan and back again.

Elaan, hand over her mouth, nodded.

"Yes," Luke replied. We'll leave tomorrow, after I introduce DC to Brenna. I've already told her I'll be leaving for a week or two, but I'm not sure she understands."

"You want the _Falcon_?" Rupert asked.

"Brenna's already lined up a shuttle."

"The _Falcon_ would be faster and, and I don't have any immediate need for her. You can use her if you want."

Luke grinned. "Thanks, Rue. I appreciate that. I'll try to keep her in one piece."

"See that you do," Rupert teased. "You'll need a co-pilot. I'll see if Griffin's available." Griffin was Rupert's regular co-pilot for Croyus Four supply runs, and the two had become fast friends.

"What time do you want me at DC's tomorrow?" Brenna asked.

"Oh-nine-hundred or so. Or as early as it's convenient. You can bring the baby and leave him with the nurse." He looked around at the entire table. "Now. Who's ready for dessert?"

.

.

.

Luke reminded DC that he would be leaving soon, but she seemed disinterested. She simply continued to eat her breakfast as if he had said nothing. Luke reminded her that she was not to hurt anyone while he was gone, or ever, and that there would be "serious consequences" if she did. He had no idea what "consequences" he would come up with if she did try to hurt anyone, but he had chosen Brenna as his substitute care-giver because Brenna would probably be able to block whatever the girl threw at her, and possibly project her shield onto Tibbik or Rupert, if the need arose. Brenna was still in the process of re-learning how to project her shield, but she was able to do a limited amount for short times.

And Luke also thought it wouldn't hurt for the girl to think that there were more than just a couple of people who were immune to her attacks, so it was lucky that Brenna was a projective Shield.

As for Rupert, well, he would have the mortu with him, and Luke didn't think DC could attack Rupert and the mortu simultaneously. But just in case he was wrong, he wanted Rupert to bring his "therapy animal" only when Brenna was present.

Luke motioned through the one-way mirror that he was ready for Brenna, and Brenna handed the baby to Rupert and went to the double-sealed airlock door.

DC didn't look up from her meal.

"This is my friend Brenna," Luke said.

At the mention of Luke's daughter's name, DC, looked up sharply. Luke could almost see the girl's mind registering that _this_ Brenna was not the same one that originally operated Croyus Four, and after a second, DC returned to her meal. Luke could practically see the girl's ears perk up, though.

"Brenna will look after you while I'm gone. She has promised to give me a full report of what happens, and I told her that if you're good, you can continue your visits with Maggie the Mortu. Understand?"

There was a barely perceptible nod. DC didn't even pause in her meal.

"I don't _think_ she'll give you any trouble," Luke said softly to Brenna. "But contact me immediately if she does. You can go back to 'droid care until I get back, if you need to."

"We'll be fine," Brenna promised. "Have a good trip."

Luke took a last look at his daughter and his charge, then left the room and headed to the space dock, where Rupert was overseeing final pre-flight checks of the _Falcon_ with his co-pilot Griffin,_,_ and Elaan and Aren were already ensconced on board.

Luke found himself to be uncharacteristically nervous. This trip would either be one of the best he had ever made, or one of the worst.

It all depended on Elaan.


	10. Chapter 10

**Shadows of the Mind**

**Chapter Nine**

The trip back to Elaan and Aren's homeworld was made without incident. Elaan and Aren shared the captain's cabin, Griffin took the co-pilot's cabin, and Luke took a passenger cabin. They approached the planet while their destination was still in daylight, but Luke wanted to avoid any further cultural contamination and waited until the middle of the night, when the locals were most likely to be fast asleep, to land the ship near Doran's family's farm. He avoided the farm itself, just in case someone other than the immediate family was there, and they waited for the sun to rise before they'd make their way to the farmhouse.

The shuttle Aren had used to return to Croyus Four was loaded in the _Falcon's_ cargo bay, just in case.

Unable to sleep after the landing, Luke sat in the main cabin and switched the main monitor to the feed for the exterior cameras to watch for any signs of approach.

He didn't really think there was any need, but since he couldn't sleep, he might as well.

A soft noise made him look up from the monitor. It was Elaan, restless herself at the knowledge of being so near to home.

"Hey," Luke said quietly.

"Are we home?" she asked.

"We've landed," Luke confirmed. "As soon as dawn breaks, we'll head to your brother-in-law's farm." He patted the seat next to him. "Come look at the monitor, if you like."

She limped to the couch, with a small degree of difficulty, sat down and slid over. She leaned against him, and Luke let his arm wrap around her. She sighed and laid her head against his shoulder, and Luke let his head rest on top of hers. It was so…comfortable, felt so right, but he couldn't let himself believe just yet that this closeness would last.

"Nervous?" he asked her.

"Yes," she replied. "I will feel much better once I see that they are home and alive."

"And if they are, you'll have a decision to make."

"If they are _not_, I will not rest until I have found them."

"Well…I guess we'll find out in the morning."

She pulled away, and regarded him. "Why do you do all this for me? You know that I am not Briande. You know that I may choose to stay, and yet you still do this for me. You rescued Timmon for me before, despite that I chose him over you. I _know_ you want me for yourself, but your actions show otherwise. Why do you do it?"

Luke smiled a little. "I know you're not Briande. But there's still part of her in you. You're so like her, and I don't mean just your physical appearance. I do it…for the part of you that is like her."

"I could never repay any of this."

Luke pulled her back against him. "Just let me hold you a bit longer, and we'll call it even."

She relaxed a little. "And this is enough for you?"

"It's enough…for now."

.

.

.

They had fallen asleep like that in the main cabin. Any awkwardness was saved by the fact that the co-pilot Griffin had awakened first, gone into the main cabin, and shaken Luke awake. Luke in turn woke Elaan, who went back to her cabin to change. She and Aren emerged a short time later, and if Aren had any hint that his mother had been missing, he didn't show it. The group waited until the dawn had lightened enough to navigate the rough terrain, then left the _Falcon_ and walked toward the farm. Luke helped Elaan over the difficult spots. Her "good" foot was still weak and actually gave her more trouble than the prosthetic foot.

The family wasn't about yet when they arrived. Luke nodded encouragement to Elaan, who hesitated only a second, then knocked a pattern on the door.

It was opened a few seconds later by Ranaad, whose eyes widened at the sight of Elaan and who then squealed in delight. "Momman!" she yelled back into the house. "Momman, come quickly! See who is here!" She launched herself at Elaan in a hug, released her, then picked up Aren—who was almost too big for her to pick up—and tried to wag him back and forth.

Ranaad's mother Kayleen appeared then, dropped the wooden cup and towel she'd been using to dry it, and enveloped Elaan. When Ranaad finally set Aren down, Kayleen reached out and pulled him into the three-way hug. After a moment, she released them, and seemed to notice Luke and Griffin for the the first time. She pressed her hands together in front of her mouth, and pressed the edges of her hands to her lips. Her eyes glistened as she looked from Luke to Griffin. "You saved her! Thank you!"

"Not me," Griffin said laughingly, hands in the air, stepping back.

Luke nodded once, stiffly. He _had_ saved her, but not for Kayleen's sake.

Kayleen took her hands away from her face and laughed. "Where are my manners?" She opened the door and held it open. "Come in, come in! All of you! Elaan! And Aren! And Luke! And…whoever you are! Please! Come in! We shall have a celebration! Ranaad, fetch preserves from the barn! And two—no, _three_—of the fattest cook-fowl. Doran and Timmon are gone, but here is our Elaan returned to us!

.

.

.

Kayleen refused to let Elaan help prepare any of the food for the "celebration." In fact, she refused to let _any_ of them help, except her daughter Ranaad. Elaan was grateful to sit and rest her aching feet, both the good one that was still weak from the damage caused to it, and the artificial one, whose ankle joint between the prosthetic and her real leg ached from the trek down the hillside. She'd refused to take a pain narcotic, saying that she wanted to hold this company in memory as best she could.

"Did not Aren tell you of the danger, that I had been captured?"

"Of course he did," Kayleen replied. Ranaad nodded concurrence.

"Yet you stayed, knowing that I might betray you?"

Kayleen stopped plucking the dead bird she was preparing and leaned down to touch her cheek to Elaan's. "You would not have done so."

"I nearly did."

Kayleen smiled. "You did not."

"You should have left for safer pasture when I was caught."

"But this is our home. The villagers think that Doran and Timmon died in a barn raising accident, that you and Aren have gone off to live with your brother for a time. Faleen and Sandin are living on your farm, safeguarding it for you and Aren. Faleen shall be glad of your return. Beyond being relieved to find you safe, Faleen prefers to live in the village, where her friends are nearby. Ranaad shall fetch Faleen and Sandin as soon as she is done that other bird."

Ranaad nodded again. "She will be relieved that you and Aren are safe."

Kayleen finished the plucking, wiped her hands, then grasped Elaan's on the tabletop. "Oh, Elaan, it is so good to have you back, and in one piece."

"Not completely in one piece," Elaan answered, with a meaningful glance at Luke, "but close enough. And I should not be here at all, were it not for Luke. I hope it will not lessen his welcome here for me to explain that he is not really my brother at all, but was my husband in my before-time."

Kayleen smiled and moved to the back of Luke's chair to embrace him from behind. "Ranaad suspected as much and told me so when she returned from the bonder's fair last year. You are welcome in any case."

"Thank you," Luke said softly.

"And I do not think," Kayleen added, "that Timmon would mind overmuch if you worked the farm, lived in the house, or even…slept in his bed. So long as the farm passes to Aren in time."

Luke laughed. "My farming days are behind me, I'm afraid. No, I'm just visiting. Aren may want the farm eventually, but not me."

Kayleen seemed disappointed. "Well," she said, "it would be a shame if it were to fall out of the family's possession." Abruptly she stood up and returned to dressing the cook-fowl. "Perhaps Sandin's brother can help Elaan with the work until Aren comes of age. He is a bachelor, still, and was raised to farm work. He has offered to help us here when his family's farm can spare him. I think he is sweet on Ranaad, but _she_ says he only comes for my cooking."

Ranaad rolled her eyes.

Elaan laughed. "Perrin is a worthy young man, though perhaps a bit _too_ young to think of marriage yet. But if Faleen and Sandin could just check on the farm from time to time, make sure the buildings stay in good repair and keep it in stewardship for Aren, I should be very grateful."

Every other pair of eyes in the room, except for Griffin's, snapped to Elaan. Elaan's eyes were looking at Luke.

"Luke has offered," Elaan went on, "to give Aren and me a home on _his_ world. As long as Luke understands that I am _Elaan_, and _only_ Elaan, I would like to accept his offer."

"I understand," Luke said, smiling slowly.

Elaan shifted her gaze to her son. "And when Aren is of an age, he may decide for himself whether to stay at our new home, or return here to our old."

Aren continued to return her gaze, but said nothing.

Kayleen was crestfallen. "So this is to be a farewell, as well as a celebration of your safe return?"

"I am afraid so," Elaan replied, a little sadly.

Luke patted Elaan's hand from across the table and looked from her to Kayleen and Ranaad. "Don't worry," he said. "I'll bring her back every now and then for a visit, say, once or twice a year. Will that work?"

"It is more than I hoped for," Elaan told him, eyes shining.

"And I'll leave the shuttle again, same place as before, so if there's danger to _any_ of you—" Luke's eyes swept the group, "—one of you can use it to fetch me, and I'll come as soon as I can."

"I should like to see the farm again, before we leave?" Elaan asked hopefully.

"Sure," Luke said. "Whatever you want."

"Will you at least stay the night here?" Kayleen asked. "To find you and then _lose_ you again, all in the same day, would be unbearable."

Elaan looked at Luke, eyebrows raised in question.

"Whatever you want," Luke repeated.

.

.

.

The celebration/farewell dinner had been consumed, sleeping arrangements had been made not only for Luke, Elaan, Aren, and Griffin, but also Faleen and her husband Sandin. Cramped space and modesty was settled by putting all the women in one room, and all the men and Aren in the other. Luke didn't mind. He now had all the time in the galaxy to spend with Elaan now, and he was happy—so happy that he didn't take much notice over the fact that Aren wasn't with the group when he woke up.

He just assumed that the boy had gone to the privy, and when he didn't return in a short amount of time, he decided that Aren must have gone ahead of the others to see his home for the last time before they left, which is what Elaan also assumed when she woke up and Luke told her that Aren wasn't with the group.

But when Faleen, Sandin, Griffin, Luke, and Elaan arrived at Elaan's old homestead and there was still now sign of Aren, it was worrisome.

And when Sandin admitted that Aren had asked him if he knew the name of a black-haired, black-bearded bonder with a scar on his face who lived between Peaslee and Westfall, and when Elaan confirmed that she hadn't told Aren about the bonder, Luke suddenly knew he had a very serious problem.

.

.

.

"I'm sorry, Elaan. It's my fault. I should have been watching for it."

Luke helped Elaan over a rock as they hurriedly made their way back to the _Falcon_. Griffin turned back with a questioning look in his eyes, but Luke waved him on ahead.

"Your fault?"

Luke tried to explain it to Elaan. "The only way he could have known about that bonder is from spill-over."

"'Spill-over'?"

"It's like eavesdropping on our mind-link. When you wanted to know if you had betrayed Doran's family, and I helped you remember, Aren must have been accidentally…uh, listening in. He must've seen the rape memories. I'll bet he's going after the men who hurt you, starting with that one."

"'Going after'? To what purpose?"

"To kill them, most likely. Or try to, anyway. He's more likely to get killed by them."

"Are you sure?" Elaan asked. "Couldn't he have…just gone to visit some friends?"

"It's what _I_ would have done at his age. Before I learned better."

"We have to stop him!"

"Yes," Luke replied.

.

.

.

There was only one road that Aren could have taken to head towards Peaslee and Westfall. It was a simple matter to go back to the _Falcon_ and hop to where Luke judged they'd be well ahead of Aren. By waiting until nightfall to do the hop, they were even able to pinpoint his position on the road, the lone humanoid lifeform camped just off the road. Luke and Griffin navigated the _Falcon_ to a clearing that was a couple hours ahead of Aren's position, and at first light the trio of Luke, Elaan, and Griffin made their way down the hillside to a spot Luke liked as the best place to "ambush" the boy.

As they made their way down the mountainside, Luke motioned for Elaan to hang back. When Griffin was out of earshot, Luke said to her quietly, "Elaan, I'd like to try and undo the damage I caused with that mind-link."

"Not _you_," she corrected. "_We_."

Luke nodded. "We. But as the more experienced participant, I should have been paying attention and watching for that. Anyway, he's got a lot of anger right now. I can't say that I blame him. But I'd like to help him redirect it to something…less destructive. With your permission, I'd like to take him as an apprentice. Help him…change the system here. Eliminate the whole bonding practice."

Elaan sucked in a breath. "That is dangerous work. More dangerous, even, than what Timmon did."

"Yes, but not as dangerous as going after the men who hurt you like he's doing now. And he wouldn't be alone. I'd be there to guide him as best I could. And it would take time. Between now and whenever he's ready, he might just change his mind altogether about this…revenge-quest he's on."

Elaan sighed. "He is…out of place on your world. As am I, but he moreso."

"I know. That's why you saved the farm for him, isn't it?"

"Yes. So that when he is a man grown, he can make his home where he is comfortable, where he knows…how things work. But he cannot stay on this present course. He is too young to understand what it would do to him."

"Agreed," Luke said.

"And I cannot keep him with me forever."

"No."

"This is the best solution?"

"The best one I can think of, anyway."

She sighed again. "Promise me that you will keep him safe?"

"I'll do the best that I can."

"That was not a 'yes.'"

"No, it wasn't. But I will do everything in my power to make sure no harm comes to him."

"Well, I thank you for your honesty." She drew in a deep breath. "There really is no other way, is there."

It was not a question, and Luke did not reply.

She let out the rest of the air in her lungs and drew a new breath back in. "Very well. I agree on the condition that I am involved in all aspects of this…apprenticeship."

Luke smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way. Now all we have to do is convince Aren to agree."

"That will not be easy. He sees you as a rival to his father."

"Yeah, I get that. Time might take care of that. Maybe he'll see things differently when they aren't as raw for him."

"Perhaps. You should know that…despite your help…things are…a bit 'raw' for me, as well, and I may not be…all that you expect me to be."

"Take as much time as you want, Elaan. And I don't 'expect' anything. Hope for, maybe, but not expect."

"Thank you." She smiled a little ruefully. "I feel a bit like a 'kept woman.' I would like to earn my keep, but I am afraid that I do not know how…"

Luke shrugged. "I've got a few jobs I could use you for."

"Do you plan to return to farming, then? You will have to teach me what I need to know on your world."

Luke laughed. "No, I think I'm done with farming. But there's this…little girl I'm trying to help, and you're uniquely qualified to help me with her. You can 'earn your keep' by spending time with her, help re-socialize her. Interested?"

"Very. Tell me about the girl and what you want me to do."

"Later," Luke promised. "Right now, let's just concentrate on finding Aren and stopping his mad quest. First things first."

"Yes," she agreed.

They caught up to Griffin again, and Luke positioned Rupert's co-pilot where he judged the best place to see Aren's approach would be, and positioned himself and Elaan a bit further up the road, where it would be difficult for Aren to see them until it was too late.

The wait wasn't as long as Luke expected; Aren was making good time. From his position, Griffin contacted Luke over the com-link they had taken from the _Falcon_, to warn him that Aren was approaching. Luke didn't really need Griffin's warning. He could feel the anger coming off the boy like waves of heat. He wasn't shielding now, and what Luke felt from the boy was anger, and determination, and a sense of purpose that was very dark.

Luke switched off his com-link and signaled to Elaan, and they took up positions behind large trees on opposite sides of the road.

Luke waited until he could physically hear the boy's footfalls on the road. He was about to step out from his tree, but before he could, Elaan had already stepped out from behind _her_ tree to confront her son.

"And just where do you think you are going?" she demanded.

Aren gaped. "How did you—" Then he shut his mouth. He knew how, of course. "The flying ship." He blew out a breath of frustration and looked around. "Where is he?"

Luke stepped onto the road, but held back, allowing Elaan to deal with her son.

"'He' has nothing to do with this," Elaan said angrily. "_You_ are the one running off to get yourself killed! Do you think to leave me son-less as well as husband-less? They _will_ kill you, Aren, and it will be neither swift nor pleasant."

"Not if I kill them first," Aren replied, head held high. "And I see that you have quickly found a new husband to replace the one that you lost."

Elaan's face flamed red, and her eyes burned fiercely. "How dare you," she hissed. "You, who know nothing of the world, of how I feel, of what he has done for me—and have you forgotten so soon what he has done for _you_? The collapse of the old barn, the saving of your father—have you forgotten that?"

"He is not my father!"

"Nor have I ever said that he was! Nor has he ever pretended to be! Yet he could be a mentor to you if you but give him a chance!"

Luke did a quick mental tally of the people he was now "mentor to": Brenna, Rupert—well, he hadn't really been doing much for Rupert lately, maybe he could discount his son-in-law—DC, and now Aren. Maybe Elaan, if she wanted him to teach her. They hadn't discussed it yet, but he sensed in the mind-link that she was eager to learn. The nice, quiet, semi-retirement he'd been looking forward to, with just Brenna to tutor and grandchildren to enjoy was quickly becoming non-existent. Even with Elaan's promise of help with DC, he figured he was going to be keeping fairly busy.

Maybe Luke should introduce DC and Aren—not now, but later, after Aren had a chance to cool off a bit and adjust to his new life. On the other hand, putting two angry children together might just cause them to feed off each other.

"I want no mentor!" Aren said. "Especially not one who would do nothing to defend you from the ones who hurt you!"

Luke finally decided it was time to take a hand in the goings on. "Aren," he said, "you were never intended to experience those memories of your mother. That was an accident. I'm sorry about that. I should have been more careful. All I can do now is help you deal with the aftermath. If your goal is simply to murder the men who hurt your mother, I'll not help you. _And_ I'll do everything in my power to keep you from doing it. Not because of what you would do to _them_, but because of what it would do to _you_. On the other hand, if you want to…destroy their way of life, change your entire world, institute a system of justice so that _all_ bonders—_and_ bondsmen, _and_ bondswomen, _and_ fremmin—are held accountable for their actions—_then_ I'll do my best to help you get what you want."

"You do not know what I want."

"I can guess," Luke replied. Aren's anger and aggression were as visible in his face as they were in the Force. "You're after the bonders that hurt your mother, starting with the one with the scar."

Aren was surprised into silence for a second, then waved an arm. "After what they did to her, they do not deserve to live!"

"Perhaps not, but I'm more concerned with what killing them would do to _you."_

"But what they did—"

"Have you talked to your mother about your plan? _She_ was the one who was hurt. Is this what _she_ wants? Aren, it was never intended that you should experience those memories of your mother's. That was an accident, and I'm so sorry that you saw them."

"Do not pretend that you have concern for me. You want my mother. That's _all_ you want. You're _glad_ my father is dead! So you can have her to yourself!"

"That's not true, Aren. I do love your mother, but I also liked your father. What happened to him wasn't my fault. After we rescued him from the bonder's fair last year, I warned him not to go out again. I told him I wouldn't be there the next time."

"You burned him! You burned your mark into him!"

"I _had_ to, Aren. Your father understood. The mark wasn't permanent. It was the best way to get him out safely. He was supposed to explain all that to you."

"He told me your story. But you are still glad he is dead."

"No. I'm glad that your mother has decided to come with me. There's a difference."

Aren's hand went to the hilt of his father's old sword, awkwardly large for him in its equally awkward baldric. "You cannot stop me."

Luke sighed, called his lightsaber to his hand, activated it, and easily sliced a branch off a nearby tree. "Care to see what this would do to that little 'toy' of yours?" He deactivated the energy weapon and bared his neck, which still bore the scar of where he feigned his death to help Brenna. "This was the barest touch, and let me tell you, it hurt like a son-of-a-gun." He re-hooked his lightsaber to his belt, used the thumbnail of his good hand to slice into the syntheskin of his bionic hand enough to peel it back and reveal some of the circuitry. "Losing my hand to a weapon like that hurt a lot worse. You should know that I'm willing to do _anything_—short of killing you—to stop you from this vengeance quest."

Aren was young, but he was not stupid. He sank to the ground in utter defeat, and dropped his head into his hands.

It wasn't a moment too soon. Luke could hear crashing in the underbrush that indicated Griffin's approach, and he didn't want to put Rupert's young co-pilot in the position of either having to keep secret a gross violation of New Republic laws, or feeling obligated to report it. Luke needed to finish this, at least for the time being.

"Aren, I promise I'll help you end what happened to your mother as a common practice. I promise to help you bring justice to the bonders. We'll talk more about it in private, but not right now."

Aren looked up, and Luke indicated the noise from the underbrush and held a finger to his lips, hoping the boy would heed the signal.

Fortunately, he did. When Griffin broke through the brush, Aren simply asked, "Let us begone, then. Where is your ship to the other worlds?"

Luke nodded up the side of the mountain, and Aren rose to his feet, found the all but invisible deer trails, and started climbing upward, using the branches and younger trees as aids.

Griffin watched him go, let out a groan, and followed after.

Luke smiled and held out his hand to Elaan. "Shall we?" he asked,

Elaan gave him a brief smile in return, held out her hand, but resisted when Luke started to pull her up the hillside.

He stopped and looked at her.

"Thank you," she whispered. "You saved my husband. You saved me. And now…you saved my son."


	11. Chapter 11

**Shadows of the Mind**

**Chapter Eleven**

Aren was sullen on the trip back to Croyus Four. Luke left the flying of the ship to Griffin, and divided his time between Elaan and Aren, showing both the simplest of computer tools. Elaan took to it readily enough—perhaps some vestige of Briande helped her accept the inexplicable workings of the technology with less questioning—but Aren had a lot more difficulty adapting. Luke tried limiting Aren's use to reading simple histories of various societies, but Aren was frequently distracted by the technology of the readers rather than the content. By the time they arrived at Croyus Four, however, he was feeling a _bit_ more comfortable with it, and could actually call up some of the readings without Luke's help.

As for the content, Elaan was able to understand more of it than her son, and her comprehension, limited as it was, helped Aren.

At one point Aren complained about having to read the relatively difficult material, but Luke explained, "If you want to change a society, you have to know what you want to change it _to_. You have to know what works, and what doesn't. Otherwise you leave a chaotic void, and what comes out of it may be worse than what you had to begin with. The first step in reaching a goal is knowing what the goal _is_. By studying the past and mistakes made in the past, you may avoid making them in the future. If you want to be a leader for your world, a _good_ leader, this is the first step."

After that, Aren was more cooperative, but Luke could still sense the disapproval in the boy's eyes every time Luke drew near to his mother.

Well, some things just couldn't be helped.

Brenna met them when they docked, and Luke was relieved to learn that there had been no problems with DC.

"In fact," Brenna said, waggling her eyebrows once, "I know what our young patient's Force-talent is—figured it out while you were gone."

"What, beyond telekinesis?" Luke asked.

"Yup."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense."

Brenna grinned. "She's a memorist. I played some memory games with her, and she beat me soundly."

It was Luke's turn to raise his eyebrows. "_Really?_"

"Yeah. She remembers everything. Everything she sees, everything she hears—_everything!_"

"Hmmm," Luke said.

"So be careful what you say to her. She'll know if you contradict yourself."

Luke gave his head a small shake. "Well, that either makes things a whole lot easier, or a whole lot more difficult."

"How so?"

"She'll remember everything that was done to her, every image and sound from the implants—at least while she was conscious, and possibly while she was hibernating, too." He blew out a breath. "Well, we'll just have to make sure she has enough positive experience to counteract whatever was done to her. She could just _tell_ us what was done to her."

"Or it might be too painful for her."

"Or that," Luke agreed. "But if she's a memorist, she's going to remember every detail even if it's too painful to put into words. Poor kid."

"What do you want to do?"

"Talk to Tibbik. Get his opinion."

Brenna breathed in and out deeply. "Well, whatever you decide, remember that she's just a little girl, and none of this is her fault."

"Yeah."

"And I've been thinking…about why the original Brenna Brellis might do all that to such a young child."

"And?"

"And I'm thinking…what if the original Brenna Brellis was trying to create an assassin? I mean, who would suspect a little girl of something like that."

"I'll keep your theory in mind," Luke promised.

"Be careful, Dad," Brenna warned.

.

.

.

Luke's living situation changed. With Elaan and Aren moving in, even with their meager possessions, his simple apartment was too small, and Brenna arranged for him to have the larger residence right next door to her own. Aren wasn't too happy about the arrangement, but aside from his sullen expression and surreptious looks, he kept his unhappiness to himself. Luke assigned him various readings, non-fiction dealing mostly with understanding different forms of government and their strengths and weaknesses and a few literary works dealing with the futility of revenge, tried to open discussions with him on the readings, but otherwise gave Aren time to digest, assimilate, and grieve. He had the feeling that the swimming lessons Brenna arranged for him were more effective in taking the boy's mind off his father's death and the alien-ness of his new environment, than anything Luke did himself.

The remainder of Luke's time was spent with DC and Elaan. A few simple tests confirmed Brenna's conclusion that DC was a memorist in addition to being a telekin, which gave Luke some goals in helping to develop her Force-talents. But the fact that she was a memorist also meant that whatever trauma had afflicted her so terribly would not be readily overcome, would always be as fresh as if it had just happened—and would never be forgotten.

Now that DC had demonstrated that she _could_ work with someone besides Luke, he arranged for her to have sessions with Tibbik while he observed from the next room—mostly to ensure Tibbik's safety. Tibbik attempted, without success, to draw some speech from her. Otherwise he had her draw pictures, of herself, of Luke, of Maggie, of anything she wanted. Most were completed as quickly as she could manage, with a child's undeveloped artwork. Tibbik noted privately to Luke that her self-portraits were always small in size and invariably drawn in black. Her portraits of Luke were somewhat larger, but also drawn in black. Her portraits of Maggie, however, practically filled the page and were drawn in colors that reflected the mortu's coat, and were the only pictures she spent any real amount of time to complete. As Tibbik noted, "Her whole universe is that mortu." Anytime she was given free rein to draw what she wanted, she drew Maggie.

Tibbik also tried to work with her on expressing emotion appropriately. Since DC still wouldn't speak, he tried nonverbal symbols, drawings of faces showing different emotions of anger, fear, sadness, surprise, joy, and neutral. Invariably she chose the angry face. When Tibbik tried to refine that by degree of anger, using facial drawings ranging from neutral to mildly annoyed, to extreme fury, she usually pointed to the space between very angry and extreme fury. When Maggie was present, however, her finger moved up on the scale to somewhere between annoyed and angry.

Whatever else the mortu did, it was evident that it provided some measure of relief from whatever turmoil was happening inside her.

Luke dared not introduce Elaan to DC yet. He had no idea what effect coming face to face with the identical twin of Brenna Brellis would do to her. Granted, the holo-image had made DC's progress possible, but the unknown factor of an in-person meeting with the two of them made him hesitate.

So for the time being, he kept them apart, despite Elaan's desire to "do something." So instead of working with DC, which was his eventual plan, he had Elaan reading the same materials he gave to Aren, had her extend her physical therapy, and pressed her into babysitting service for little Han. What time he spent directly with Elaan was mostly for his own benefit, a few minutes to a half hour when he could just _be_ with her. He didn't pressure or even ask for anything more than just to be in her presence or maybe have a little conversation. It was a relief just to have some time away from DC and Aren, to be…in a warm place that offered a comforting light to balance the Darkness in which he seemed to find himself with Aren and DC.

Deities only knew how much the two of _them_ needed some sort of relief.

And then there was the breakthrough with DC.

It happened when Luke was "cashing in" DC's reward points. As expected, the girl paid little or no attention to the toys and crafts, but zeroed in on Maggie's picture.

"All right," Luke said. "I'll arrange to have Maggie brought in for a visit this afternoon."

But DC shook her head.

"No?" Luke said, surprised. "You mean tomorrow?"

No, again.

"I don't understand," Luke told her.

DC pointed at Maggie's picture, then pointed down to the floor."

"Yes," Luke said. "You want a visit with Maggie."

She shook her head again, and pointed back down to the floor, then made a noise of frustration, got up on the bed, moved to one side, mimed going to sleep, and pointed to the empty space next to her.

"You want Maggie to have a sleep-over?" Luke asked, confused.

DC made another noise, rose from the bed, walked to the monitor to touch Maggie's picture, then touched her own chest, pointed to the bed, and pointed to the floor.

"You want Maggie to stay here, with you," Luke said, finally getting the message.

DC nodded vigorously.

"I don't know," Luke said, thinking how he could use this request. "Maggie belongs to my friend Rupert. He might not want her to stay here overnight."

DC shook her head, pointed again to the mortu's image, and then to her own chest.

"You want Maggie for your very own?"

DC nodded.

Luke leaned against the wall , folded his arms, and hid a smile. "Well," he said, "I'll certainly have a talk with Rupert and see what he says, but I can't guarantee anything. I expect Maggie will cost a lot, which means it will take a lot of points to earn her, but I'll see what he says."

DC pointed to the door.

"You want me to go now?"

DC nodded.

"Okay. Eat your lunch and work on those math problems while I'm gone."

DC practically ran to the lunch tray and started shoving food into her mouth. Luke kept his face neutral as he crossed to the door and exited. Only when the door had shut behind him, did he allow himself to break into a huge grin and page Tibbik on his com-link.

_I think_, he said to himself, _that it's time for DC and Elaan to meet each other._


End file.
